The Dursley Witch
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: We have all read the whole 'HarryMalfoyHermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a PotterMalfoyGranger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family.
1. Prologue: The Dursley Witch

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be vacationing somewhere warm, rather than shivering in a chilly classroom thinking up Fanfiction._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the afore-mentioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

It had all started when Dudley and Roisin Dursley, of Number Four, Privet Drive, had been settling down for their pre-dinner nap.

Listening to the classical dance music that their mother often played to get them to sleep, Roisin had been awoken rather sharply when two of the dolls that slept in the crib with her had started waltzing, prompting a loud wail from her brother.

Her 19-month-old mind unable to comprehend the term 'impossible', Roisin really didn't know what all the fuss was about, but the end result had been Dudley throwing her dolls out the window and screaming for Mummy.

Roisin's 19-month-old mind was able to comprehend the opinion that, honestly, her brother was taking things way out of proportion.

* * *

Mummy had thought that it was just a half-asleep dream from the limitless mind of an infant, but it hadn't stopped her from fussing over Dudley for the rest of the afternoon and evening, mostly ignoring Roisin.

Roisin had sulked about this for a while, but her mind was too young to focus on anything for a long amount of time, so she had eventually become bored with sulking.

Letting Dudley be fussed over, Roisin occupied herself by curling up in a corner, looking through her picture books and playing with her dolls, seeing if any of the others would dance as well.

Sadly, they wouldn't, and the novelty of this activity eventually wore off, and Roisin's eyes began to wander for something else to do.

Mummy fed them slowly that night, largely because of Dudley testing out a new word (shan't) and refusing to eat, and then Daddy was home.

Daddy had read her a book, and then taken her upstairs to join Dudley in sleep while Mummy made tea.

Aside from the dolls, it had been a normal day at the Dursley residence.

* * *

Roisin had always been the type of child who slept lightly, but seldom woke during the night, and went back to sleep with minimal fussing. Her parents were very relieved, as one fussy twin was more than enough.

Tonight was the exception. The comforting glow of the streetlamps suddenly went out, prompting Mrs Next Door's multitude of cats, who were on the nocternat side, to send up yowls of protest. While most people would sleep through it, in was enough out of the ordinary to wake Roisin.

With her cot next to the window, Roisin could see a glimpse of the unusual gathering of an old man with a very strange beard (Daddy would throw a fit if he saw the length of it!), and a cat who turned into a woman. They spoke for a while, the woman looking upset, and then angry about something.

At 19-months old, Roisin was perfectly capable of climbing out of her crib onto the window-seat directly beside it, to get a better look as the sound of a motorcycle, almost unheard of in Privet Drive, shattered the quiet. A large motorbike, ridden by an even larger man, dropped out of the sky. Roisin puzzled over this momentarily, and then dismissed it. After all, many things that grown-ups did were silly, in her eyes. Flying motorcycles were sillier than usual, but oh well.

The three adults talked again, before the big man handed something to the old man, who placed it on the doorstep. Roisin frowned; the milkman wouldn't come for several hours, and you could always tell because Mr End Of The Street's dogs could be heard all the way at Number 4. Eventually, the strange gathering separated and left, and things returned to normal.

Normality would be shattered the next day, however, with Petunia Dursley's ear-splitting scream, and the unwanted arrival of her cousin, Harry Potter.

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_OK, Prologue is done. What did people think? Reviews are appreciated, Flames are laughed at, and anyone interested in playing beta can contact me at the e-mail in my profile._

_Thanks for reading,_

_Nat._


	2. The Early Years and Strange Letters

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: __We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the afore-mentioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

_March 22__nd__, 1985_

It had been a little under three and a half years since Harry Potter had arrived at the Dursley's, and he was currently sitting in a corner as his cousins celebrated their 5th birthday.

Or rather, Harry was watching Dudley bask in his parent's attention, while Roisin avoided Aunt Marge's powerful hugs and either sat with her best friend, noses buried in a book, or played with Grandma Fionna, who fussed over her just as much as her parents did over Dudley.

Harry liked Grandma Fionna, even if they weren't strictly related. She always had a kind word for him, and would often slip him a treat when his Aunt and Uncle weren't looking. She didn't pay him much attention beyond that, however, and his Aunt and Uncle always put up a show of tolerance in front of visitors.

Looking back at his cousins, Harry once again marveled at the differences. Dudley was blond and very plump, with piggy blue eyes and a pink face. In startling contrast, Roisin had her father's black hair and expressive grey eyes, her build tall and slim, which was clearly from her mother. Actually, Harry himself was mistaken for Roisin's brother far more often than Dudley was.

Harry was certainly a lot closer to Roisin than she was to any of the other Dursleys. Roisin was largely indifferent to the fact that he was not her brother and that the rest of her family preferred to ignore his existence. Roisin had settled for a happy medium, treating him with the affectionate disinterest that all children have for younger relations. She also never went wild whenever something unexplainable happened around him.

Of course, this last fact could have been because Roisin had made a few strange things happen herself. Funnily enough, Vernon and Petunia never seemed to notice, (or blamed it on Harry) even when the colour of Roisin's room changed from nauseating shades of pink to softer shades of dark and light blue.

* * *

_July 31__st__, 1985…_

Harry's small face lit up in delight as his Uncle Vernon handed him a brightly wrapped package.

Beaming, he tore it open. Inside lay a small black spatula. He looked at his Aunt and Uncle, confusion clear on his face. "What is it?"

Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed. "You use it to cook, boy. It's time that you started earning your keep, so get to the kitchen and start making breakfast!"

Harry's face fell. Roisin shot a sympathetic, but discreet look at her cousin, and an un-noticed reproachful one at her father. Young as she was, she had taken their kindergarten teacher's lecture about treating everyone the same and being open to new things very much to heart. Following Dudley's frequent example, she grabbed the spatula and ran up to her mother. "Why does Harry get one and I don't? Teach me, Mummy, I want to learn!"

The look of chagrin on his relatives' faces was the high-light of Harry's day.

* * *

_December, 1986…_

Harry slowly walked home from school, an arm around his crying cousin. He was a boy, and boys didn't cry, but he could easily see where Roisin was coming from.

He knew, without a doubt, that they were both in for trouble when they got back home.

Harry had somehow turned his teacher's wig blue, and just knew that he was headed for a week in the cupboard as soon as the Dursleys found out.

Roisin, on the other hand, had managed to throw a paint-pot from a table onto another student's head – while on the other side of the room.

Even the Dursley's amazing powers of denial and selective memory was going to have a hard time explaining that away.

_Later…_

Roisin wore a pensive frown as she headed upstairs, "accidentally" dropping a burrito wrap within reach of the cupboard under the stairs, nudging it to where a pencil could draw it inside the cupboard. It was left over from the dinner party for one of Daddy's clients from America last week, and one of the few things in the kitchen that would fit between door and meticulously clean floor.

There had been mixed reactions to the news that Harry and Roisin had brought home. Grandma Fionna was visiting, and looked absolutely delighted when Roisin had taken a detour to tell her about it. She had hugged her grand-daughter and promised that every thing would be all right.

Her parents, on the other hand, had been shocked and horrified at the news of what had happened at school. Her father had looked like he was actually going to explode before her mother had intervened.

Asking her mother why she wasn't angry had produced a shrug and "You're my daughter. That's enough."

"Enough" hadn't stopped Petunia from acting very stiff and formal toward her daughter ever since the news, however.

Walking up to her parent's room to say goodnight, Roisin saw her father entering, and for a moment their eyes met.

Then Vernon looked away and very deliberately shut the door behind him.

* * *

The mind of a child is an amazing thing. Sitting in her room after her father's abrupt dismissal, Roisin had looked over previous incidents and decided that they had all happened at times of very high emotion. She would just have to have better control over herself, and make sure that nothing else happened where her parents or various authority figures would notice.

Then maybe her parents wouldn't be upset any more.

* * *

Things eventually started to come to a head on Roisin and Dudley's eleventh birthday.

Except for a letter for Roisin (which Dudley had tripped and dropped in the fire in a genuine accident, but then blamed Harry anyway), the day had progressed normally, with money and presents for the twins, Dudley whining about there being less presents than last year and an excellent breakfast. Harry may have resented being made to cook, but it was Roisin's birthday, and she usually tried to do something nice on his.

The day started to go downhill when Arabella Figg called to say that she had broken her leg and couldn't take Harry for the day while the Dursleys went out to celebrate.

Dudley had instantly thrown a tantrum, wailing to try and get sympathy from their parents, much to Roisin's exasperation. She wasn't above using the same trick herself when necessary, but she was at least realistic about it, and used tantrums as a last resort. How nobody noticed that Dudley was faking, Roisin had no idea. Besides, it was unseemly, and everyone knew how much the Dursley's valued appearances.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss and Roisin's friend Lorna turned up before the Dursleys could find an acceptable solution.

So, for the first time, Harry found himself accompanying the Dursleys on an outing, albeit with a standing cupboard-threat if anything funny were to happen.

Their time at the zoo was enjoyable, and went by with no strange incidents (unless one counted Dudley's occasional tantrum, but that was routine) until they reached the reptile house.

Roisin and Lorna were comparing an Australian Black Snake to a desert viper (seventeen out of Australia's twenty native snakes were poisonous) when they heard Piers yelling, and spun around just in time to see the glass in the Boa Constrictor case suddenly disappearing and the snake taking the opportunity to escape, gliding past a shocked Harry and out the door, snapping at Piers and Dudley's heels as it slithered past.

The trip ended rather quickly after that.

* * *

The five children were rushed out of the zoo, with Piers and Dudley insisting the whole way that they had nearly been killed, while Roisin rolled her eyes at the dramatics. Dudley really needed to stop being such a drama-king.

Unfortunately for all concerned, Piers managed to calm down enough to say that Harry had been talking to the Boa Constrictor. Roisin shared a pained wince with her cousin, and then went back to being amused at her brother's over-dramatic discomfort.

It was the Summer Holidays by the time Harry's punishment was let up, and all three children were filled with both anticipation and apprehension at the thought of starting different schools. Roisin would be attending a girl's Grammar School that both Petunia and her maternal grandmother had attended. Dudley was destined for Vernon's Alma Mater, Smeltings, and Harry was going to the local comprehensive, Stonewall High.

As with all new schools, there had been a fuss about the uniforms. Roisin had complained that her new uniform looked like something out of a convent or the Victorian Era, but then saw what Harry and Dudley would be wearing, and shut up.

Harry's uniform was nothing more than some of Dudley's old clothing, tie-dyed grey. The size difference made it look a lot like bits of old elephant skin.

Dudley's uniform of a maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers and a flat straw boater hat had sent Roisin dashing to her room and laughing herself sick.

* * *

Then, not long before Harry's birthday, everything went to hell in a hand basket.

It had started when Harry was sent to get the mail after a short argument with Dudley, and returned with two parchment letters that sent Vernon's face through a very interesting cycle of colours before he threw the children out of the room. Dudley and Harry promptly had a furious but silent fight over who listened at the key-hole. Roisin ignored them and got there first, listening to her parents in a panicked discussion that may as well have been spoken in Greek for all the sense it made. Something about 'not having one in the house' and 'might be watching'.

Things didn't stop there, however. Harry was moved out of the cupboard and into the hastily converted study, but the letters kept coming.

On Wednesday, Dudley was made to get the post, and again returned with two letters. There was a race to get into the hall and at the letters. Vernon had to wrestle with Dudley to get the letters, made considerably harder by Harry and Roisin swinging from his neck. Everyone got hit a lot by the Smeltings Stick, but Vernon emerged victorious, if very winded, and that was the end of those letters.

On Thursday, Vernon slept at the front door to prevent anyone sneaking down for early mail. Roisin had anticipated this and let Harry or her brother take the risk. If they succeeded, she would retrieve hers later. If they failed, she would not get the blame. The rest of the family was back to being stiff and formal with her as it was.

More letters arrived, and Vernon nailed the mail-slot shut.

On Friday, it became apparent that who-ever these people were, they were serious. No fewer than twelve letters arrived, obviously not caring that the letter-box had been nailed shut. The letters were pushed under the door, through the side, and even through the small window in the downstairs bathroom that nobody used.

Vernon nailed all of those shut, too, and started jumping at small noises. Roisin made as many small noises as possible, hoping to make him nervous enough that he would give her the next letter, just to make her stop.

On Saturday, twenty-four letters arrived, rolled up inside each of the two dozen eggs that a very confused milk-man had slid to Petunia through the living-room window. Petunia had let out another of her ear-splitting screams at the discovery, and Vernon had made furious calls to the dairy, the post office and anywhere else that he could think of, trying to find someone to complain to.

They were sitting down to breakfast on Sunday, Roisin trying not to point out that her father was spreading marmalade on the newspaper, when a multitude of letters came streaming down the chimney.

Roisin dived to the floor, managing to grab a letter as she rolled under the table. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry leaping in the air for one, only to be grabbed by her father and thrown out of the room. Roisin quickly stuffed the letter down the side of her skirt, made sure it was covered by her shirt, and followed the rest of her family, deciding to read the letter at a later point, when she had some privacy.

* * *

Privacy, however, would be a long time in coming.

Vernon was in a full-blown panic, packing everyone's bags, hustling them all into the car. Roisin really wished that the new company car had been something sensible, like a Toyota, rather than a very squashed sports car, as they took off at high speed.

Every so often, Vernon would double back for several miles, before resuming the previous route. Other times, he would drive into a large field in the middle of nowhere, get out and look around, then get back in and continue driving.

Roisin was beginning to have serious concerns for her father's mental health.

* * *

Roisin's chance to read the letter came when they eventually stopped for the night at a seedy motel next to a railroad.

Vernon had insisted that no-one go anywhere alone, even visiting the communal bathrooms in pairs. Roisin simply grabbed Harry and the letter and headed for the bathroom.

Standing next to the wash basins, the two examined the letter. It was made of heavy yellow parchment, with a red wax seal depicting a lion, a badger, an eagle and a snake, with a large H in the center.

Breaking the seal revealed a letter in flowing green script. Looking over it, Roisin read out loud: _" 'Dear Miss O'Conner, you have been invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…'"_

There was more, but her father had been passing by and burst in roaring. Not even looking at the name, he grabbed the parchment and tore it to shreds.

Dragging them back to the room, he spent a good quarter hour yelling at them, then went back to mumbling about how "they'd never find us here".

* * *

The next morning, they were woken up by the manager, who was looking for the addressees of the hundred or so letters that had been left down at reception.

Whoever was writing to them, Roisin decided, they had to be given credit for persistence.

* * *

Once Vernon had disposed of the letters, this time making sure that Harry and Roisin stayed locked in the room the entire time, they were on the road again.

They followed the same pattern as yesterday, with the exception of Vernon stopping at a small store and returning with a bulky package. Roisin was starting to worry about _her own_ mental health if she had to put up with much more of her brother's moaning.

That evening, they ended up rowing to a tiny island on the sea. Vernon was convinced that no-one would ever find them there.

Rationally, Roisin agreed with him. On the other hand, the letter-senders had known their location right down to the motel room.

Barely stopping herself from pointing this out, Roisin only said that if this didn't stop them, nothing would.

* * *

Of course, it turned out to be the second option.

At exactly midnight, someone started banging on the doors with all the force of a battering ram.

Dudley sat up with a jolt from his bed on the couch. Roisin fell off the bench that she had been lying on. Vernon and Petunia came skidding in from the bedroom, Vernon wielding a gun and shouting.

There was a pause, then the door was literally knocked off its hinges, revealing a huge figure filling the doorway, outlined against the storm.

* * *

_A/N: I've had a few complaints about how closely this is following the book. Yes, it is very close, and will continue to be for a while. Change comes slowly, most of the time, and people stick to the familiar. Things will start to diverge from Canon as the story progresses. _

_Thanks,  
_

_Nat  
_


	3. What do you mean, Magic?

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the afore-mentioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

_Note: I am terrible with accents, so use your imagination. You are reading Fanfiction, so I'm sure you have some. Also, I am getting a lot of questions asking why Roisin's letter is addressed to Miss O'Conner. It will be explained in the next chapter. Don't worry, it's not a Mary-Sue thing, just a bit of background._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

A huge, giant of a man stood in the doorway, looking quite fearsome. His beard and long, shaggy hair were wild and tangled, and his eyes glimmered like black beetles.

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley stood frozen, trembling in fear.

Roisin was still half asleep, her mind still too blurred to register the shock that she should be feeling.

Harry wanted to know what was going on.

The giant ducked his head to get into the hut, and then turned to pick up the door and set it back on its hinges. The noise of the storm outside dropped somewhat. He turned to look at them. "Couldn't make us a cup of tea, could yeh? Been a long journey…"

Roisin shook her head behind the man's back, still in shock at how surreal everything was. An entrance like that, and he expected any of them to be in a condition to make tea! She started moving toward Harry as the man stumped over to the couch, where Dudley remained, unmoving. "Budge up, ye great lump."

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind Petunia, who still cowered behind Vernon. Roisin rolled her eyes. Would it kill her family to show a little backbone every once in a while? Sure, she was scared too, but there was no need to let this man know about it! That was the first rule of danger; stay calm and don't show that you are scared.

Ignoring the rest of the hut's occupants, the giant turned his attention toward Harry. "Last time I saw you, you was only a baby. You look a lot like your dad, but you have your mum's eyes."

In the corner, Vernon made a funny noise, but seemed to pull himself together. "I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!"

Well, it was nice to see that her father wasn't a total coward, but somehow, Roisin didn't think that yelling at the stranger would be all that beneficial to her father's continued good health.

Either way, the stranger remained less than intimidated, jerking the gun out of Vernon's hands and twisting it into a pretzel. "Ah, shut up, Dursley, ya great prune."

Roisin's father made another funny noise. Roisin wondered if she was the only one who thought it sounded like a mouse being trodden on.

The giant turned back to Harry. "Anyway – Harry, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got something for yeh, here, too."

Roisin felt her stomach let out a growl at the sight of a large, sticky chocolate cake, reminding her of how long it had been since her last proper meal. Still, she hoped someone would have the sense to find out who the stranger was before eating anything.

Apparently, Harry might have been thinking along the same lines, because he looked down at the cake, then back up at the giant. "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled. Roisin thought it sounded a bit like distant thunder, but that could have been the storm outside. "True, I haven't introduced myself. Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Hogwarts! That was the name of the school in the letters! Roisin turned her attention back to Hagrid, who had just finished talking. He looked at the fireplace, still holding last evening's pathetic attempts at a fire, and snorted in disgust. Leaning over the fireplace, he did something, and a blazing fire roared to life. Roisin barely managed not to let out a coo of delight at the warmth that spread through the hut, then blinked at the number of things that Hagrid began to take out of his pockets. A kettle, a packet of sausages, a poker, a tea pot, and the list went on.

Still in a state of shock, no one said anything while the man cooked, although Dudley fidgeted slightly when the first sausages were slid off the poker, despite Vernon's warnings.

Harry and Roisin, the latter too far away for her parents to stop her and too hungry to really care, however, pounced on the food as Hagrid chuckled. "Yer great puddin' of a son don't need any more fattening up, Dursley."

True, but there was no need to say it. Putting her second sausage down, Roisin frowned sternly at the giant. Finally, when it became obvious that no-one was going to explain anything, Harry spoke up again. "Sorry, but I still don't know who you are."

Hagrid laughed again. "Call me Hagrid, everyone does. Like I said, I'm keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Yeh know all about Hogwarts, of course."

Roisin rolled her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. If they had known about Hogwarts, they would have had a proper idea of why they were being dragged all over the bloody country. Harry was a bit more diplomatic. "Er… no. Sorry."

Hagrid looked shocked, glaring at the other three Dursleys, who backed away quickly. "Sorry! It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters, but I never thought yeh wouldn't know about Hogwarts! Didn't yeh wonder where yer parents learnt it all?"

Harry and Roisin leaned forward eagerly. "Learned all what?"

Hagrid's expression changed from shock to fury. The Dursleys scurried into a corner. Roisin dodged when they tried to pull her with them. Hiding behind Harry seemed a lot safer, at the moment. "ALL WHAT? Now wait jus' one second!" He glared at Vernon. "Do you mean ter tell me that these two – that _Harry Potter _– know nothing about…about _anythin'!_"

Roisin drew herself up in indignation. All right, so she wasn't top of the class, but she wasn't stupid either! Harry appeared to be thinking the same thing. "I know some things. I can do maths and stuff!"

Hagrid waved that off. "About our world, I mean. I don't believe Miss O'Conner never told yeh. _Your_ world, _my_ world. Yer _parents'_ world."

"What world?"

What did her Nana, who had moved back to her family and her maiden name after Grandfather died, have to do with this? Seeing Hagrid's face, Roisin decided to ask that later and prudently took a step away from her family and behind Harry. Hagrid looked ready to explode. "_Dursley!_"

Vernon muttered something that sounded like "mimblewimble". He had gone whiter than a sheet. Hagrid stared at Harry, voice lowering to a whisper. "But yeh must know about yer mum and dad. I mean, they're _famous._ You're famous."

Roisin frowned. That made no sense, given her parents obsession with popularity. If Aunt Lily had been famous, her mother would have been bragging about it to Heaven and back, wouldn't she? Harry blinked in surprise. "My parents weren't famous, were they?"

Hagrid ran a hand through his bushy hair. "Yeh don't know… Yeh don't know who yeh _are?_"

Vernon seemed to recover his courage. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell him anything!"

Roisin shook her head. It was nice to see that her father did have the occasional bit of backbone, but couldn't he at least try to choose a time that was less likely to get him killed? Even so, she didn't think anyone could stand up to the furious look that Hagrid had just levelled at him. When he spoke, his voice trembled with rage. "Yeh never told him? Never told him what was in the letter? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it for him! And yeh kept it from him all these years?"

Harry leaned forward again. "Kept what from me?"

Petunia's horrified gasp was audible even over Vernon's panicked shout. "Stop! I forbid you!"

Hagrid growled. "Ah, go an' boil yer heads, both of yeh. Harry, yer a wizard."

Except for the noise of wind and sea, the hut was dead silent. Roisin blinked. That probably made her a witch, then. No wonder her family had been so worked up about the letters, this was so far away from normal that it wasn't even funny!

The silence was broken by Harry's gasp. "I'm a _what_?"

Hagrid sat back down on the couch, which groaned under his weight. "A wizard. And a right good one, once yer trained up a bit. With a mum and dad like yours, what else could yeh be? Now it's past time you read yer letter. Yeh too, girl."

He handed Harry a letter, nearly identical to the one that Roisin had nearly read back at the Motel. Roisin ignored the 'girl' and accepted her letter. Opening it, she read aloud, keeping an amused eye on her family's faces.

"Won't this be interesting to read…?

'_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class…) _

yada yada yada. Lot of titles there. Let's see…

_Dear Miss O'Conner, _

_You have been invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a full list of books and equipment necessary. Term begins on September 1__st__. We await your owl no later that July 31__st_

_Sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress.'"_

Roisin slowly folded up the letter. That really was interesting. Questions flew through her mind. Why were they using her grandmother's maiden name in the address, instead of Roisin's birth surname? Was this all just some bizarre dream? Dimly, she heard Harry ask what the letter meant by 'await you owl', and Hagrid pulling a rather rumpled owl out of his pocket, writing a quick note, and throwing it out into the storm.

He came back over as Vernon managed to recover his voice. "They'll not be going!"

Roisin narrowed her eyes. The Hell she wouldn't! This sounded way cooler than a stuffy old grammar school! Hagrid snorted. "I'd like to see a great Muggle like you try and stop them."

Muggle? What was a Muggle? Harry vocalized the question. "A Muggle, Harry, is what we call non-magic folk. And it's yer bad luck that yeh grew up in a family of the biggest muggles I ever laid eyes on, 'cept for yer cousin."

"We swore when we took him in that we'd put a stop to that nonsense!" There was a definite note of hysteria in Vernon's voice. "Swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard, indeed!"

Hold it, they'd known about all this? "You knew?" Harry and Roisin spoke as one. "You knew I'm a Wizard / Witch?"

Petunia finally tired of holding her tongue. She started shrieking at Harry, ignoring her daughter completely. Ah, denial. Such a familiar tactic. "_Knew? Knew?_ Of course we knew! How could you not be, by dratted sister being what she was! She got a letter just like yours and went off to that _school_, and came back every holiday, pockets filled with frogspawn, turning teacups into rats! I was the only one who saw her for the freak she was! But my mother and father, oh no! It was Lily this and Lily that, they were _proud_ to have a witch in the family!"

She took a deep breath as Roisin tried to shake the ringing out of her ears. Wishing her mother would use a lower decibel, she muttered sarcastically, "Don't hold it in or anything, Mum. Let it out."

Petunia had obviously wanted to say all this for years. "Then she met that Potter at school and she left and got married and had _you_, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as _abnormal_ as she was. Then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you! Now you've gone and rubbed off on my poor daughter! I'm sure she could have skipped it if not for you!"

Not for the first time, Roisin marvelled at her mother's gift for denial. Just because they blamed Harry for bad weather didn't mean that Roisin hadn't done some pretty abnormal things herself. Harry, meanwhile, had gone very white. "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

Roisin winced in apprehension as Hagrid leapt to his feet. "Car crash? A car crash kill Lily and James Potter? It's an outrage! Harry Potter not knowing his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

Harry interrupted before the giant man could really get going. "But why? What happened?"

The anger drained from Hagrid's face. "I never expected this. They told meh there might be some trouble gettin' hold of yeh, but Dumbledore never said how much yeh wouldn't know. Ah, Harry, I'm probably not the right one to tell yeh, but yeh can't go off to Hogwarts not knowing."

He gave the Dursleys another nasty look. They scuttled back into their corner. Roisin stole a blanket off the couch and tugged Harry down next to her as Hagrid told them of a Wizard named Voldemort, who had risen, styled himself a Dark Lord, and tried to take over the Wizarding World, killing anyone who tried to oppose him. How Hogwarts was one of the only safe places left, Dumbledore the only person that Voldemort feared. How Aunt Lily and her husband James were part of those few who stood up to him, and how they managed to get on Voldemort's hit list. How Voldemort had come to the Potter's house when Harry was only a year old, intent on killing them, and how Harry had somehow survived, destroying Voldemort in the process.

Well, that was certainly enough to make someone famous. Roisin slipped an arm around her cousin, who looked as though he was reliving a nightmare. Hagrid looked at them sadly. "Took yeh from the ruined house meself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh to this ruddy lot."

"Load of old tosh." Roisin and Harry jumped, having almost forgotten the other three presences in the room. Vernon had apparently rebuilt some of his courage. "Now look here, boy. I'll admit that there's something strange about you – probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured – and about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them, in my opinion."

Roisin sighed, was her father _trying_ to get himself killed? Heedless, Vernon went on. "Asked for all they got, getting mixed up with all those wizardly types. Just what I expected, always knew that they'd come to a sticky end –"

Hagrid jumped up, pointing his umbrella at Vernon. "I'm warning you, Dursley. Just one more word…"

The prospect of being skewered seemed to knock some sense back into Vernon. He shut up. Harry spoke up. "But what happened to Voldemort? Sorry, to You-Know-Who?"

Hagrid shrugged "Nobody knows, Harry. He just vanished. Some say he died. Same night he tried to kill you. Makes yeh even more famous."

That did sound very impressive. Harry, however, was not convinced. "Hagrid, there must be some mistake. I can't be a wizard. I'm just Harry."

Roisin wished her cousin would stop trying to deny it. When Hagrid asked if Harry had ever made something happen, Roisin decided that she had been quiet long enough. "Well, there was those incidents with the wig and the roof. And the snake at the zoo."

Harry gave his cousin a look. "What about the paint-pot and changing the colour of your room? You can't tell me that was normal!"

Roisin shrugged. "I'm not the one trying to deny my apparent abilities. I wonder what else we could do."

Hagrid was beaming. "See? Harry Potter not a wizard. I bet you'll be right famous at Hogwarts, you'll see."

Vernon interrupted. "Haven't I told you they'll not be going? Roisin has an acceptance to Our Lady of Grace! The boy'll be going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it! If he goes to that school he'll need all sorts of rubbish! Spell books and wands and…"

Hagrid cut him off. A good thing, as it saved Roisin from doing something drastic, like throwing a rare tantrum to rival Dudley's best. "If they want to go, a great Muggle like you won't stop them. Stop Lily and James Potter's son from going to Hogwarts? And a scion of the O'Conner Clan! Yer mad! They'll be going to the finest school of magic in the world! They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, and be learning under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, Albus Dumbledore!"

This apparently drove Vernon over the edge. "_I am not paying for some crackpot old fool to teach them magic tricks!"_

_That_ apparently drove Hagrid over the edge. He pointed the umbrella at Vernon again, each word slow and clear with anger. "Never-insult-Albus-Dumbledore-in-front-of-me."

Roisin scrambled to her feet as the umbrella moved to point at Dudley. Yes, he was a bullying jerk, but he was still her twin. She was too late, however, as there was a flash of light and a squeal, and her brother was now sporting a curling, pink pig's tail!

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley all screamed, fleeing into the bedroom and slamming the door. Roisin took a few steps after them, then shrugged and settled back onto her bench. They couldn't do anything until morning, and she was hell to live with when she didn't get enough sleep. Besides, the sound of scraping furniture suggested that the door was barricaded by now, so she wouldn't be getting in either way.

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_Thanks for reading,_

_Nat_


	4. Diagon Alley and Meeting People

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the afore-mentioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

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**Chapter Four**

Fionna Dursley O'Conner, who had reclaimer her maiden name after her husband's death, was a woman well into her seventies.

Despite this, she remained as vibrant and energetic as a woman of several decades younger. She was also an Irish-born red-head, with all the characteristics that this suggested.

As of right now, Fionna was also contemplating the dignity of dancing with sheer joy at the news she had just received. Her grand-daughter was a witch!

She had suspected, of course, there had been signs when little Roisin had been growing up, but with her son's fixation on Normality, and her daughter-in-law's trauma after the death of her sister at the hands of a Dark Wizard, she had started to worry. Oh, Harry Potter would be fine; after defeating a Dark Lord, ten years in a non-magical environment would be nothing, even if it was clear that Vernon and Petunia favoured their own children more.

Of course, the announcement of Roisin's magical abilities also meant that it was time for a little chat with the girl. It was Roisin that Fionna was concerned about; despite the differences, Roisin loved her family, and Fionna worried that she might deny her magical heritage to please them. She needed to know the rest of her family history before she went off to Hogwarts, even if only as proof that she wouldn't be alone if she chose to follow the magic that was hers by birthright.

Petunia rarely talked about her side of the family, in fact both she and Vernon were perfectly content to ignore that Petunia's parents and sister had even existed. And the Dursley line was Normal to the point of Depressing, with the occasional exception. One such exception was Fionna's husband, and by extension Fionna herself.

Fionna had been born in Northern Ireland, the youngest daughter of the Chieftain of the prominent, but very secluded O'Conner Clan.

What was not generally known, was that the reason the Clan was so secluded, was because they were entirely magical, even those who married into the Clan. Fionna could admit to herself that their exclusivity was more than a bit prejudiced, but justified it by reminding herself that it was for the Clan's own protection.

When she was very young, barely three or four, Fionna and several of the Clan's youngest children had been sent to England to escape the brewing Civil War. When she was eight, the children of the clan returned to Ireland, but to a Clan that had lost several of it's members, including Fionna's parents.

The O'Conner Clan had a tradition of at least one child of the ruling family being sent to Hogwarts. None of her siblings had elected to go, so three years after her return, Fionna had been sent to Hogwarts, making quite a name for herself as an intelligent and powerful witch.

A few years after Fionna's graduation, the Muggle World War II broke out, taking place at the same time as the rise of the Dark Lord Grindewald. Loving very little more than a good fight, many of the O'Conner Clan joined the fight with great enthusiasm, along with a large portion of their countrymen.

It was during this war that Fionna met and fell in love with a Muggle-born soldier by the name of Frank Dursley, despite the scandal it would cause amongst her family, normally resulting in the offender being cast out.

It was also during this war, that two-thirds of the O'Conner Clan was wiped out by a stray bomb while on an extended tour of their lands, to see where the Wards needed upgrading.

Because of this, the Clan was willing to ignore Frank's Muggle blood to the extent of allowing Fionna to officially stay in the Clan, and to accept any Magical decedents.

Fionna moved back to England with her new love, where they married and had two children, Vernon and Marge. Much to her dismay, neither child showed any sign of Magic, and then Frank had died not long after Marge's birth, leaving no real buffer between the children and the rest of the Depressingly Normal Dursleys. Fionna did her best, but she was very much out-numbered, and her mother-in-law, the family Matriach, was far from a push-over.

When you added in the secrecy laws of the Magical World, it was no real surprise that both children grew up with no knowledge of magic, Vernon marrying a Muggle woman who was as intent on being Normal as he was. Fionna sometimes wondered if it was good or bad that Marge showed no interest in marriage or motherhood.

Fionna still kept in occasional contact with her family, however, and had joyfully written to them in 1981 with the news that Roisin was showing signs of being a witch. The accidental magic was nothing spectacular, but it was there.

Since then, she had treasured her Grand-daughter, nurturing her creative imagination with stories and legends of Magic. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to young Harry, as well, but he would have enough people fawning over him when he recieved his letter and returned to the Wizarding World.

Now she knew for certain, and had confirmed it through a discussion with her old school friend, Minerva McGonagall, when the Deputy Headmistress had flooed her in exasperation and asked if she could _please_ do something about her stubborn off-spring constantly ignoring the Hogwarts letters.

Listening to her friend rant, Fionna had thought that she would have paid good money to have seen her son's reaction to the letters. She had promised that if Hagrid failed, then Fionna would track down her family and force feed them the letter's contents.

Thankfully, Hagrid had not failed, and Fionna was preparing to meet her Grand-daughter and great-nephew-in-law at Diagon Alley.

* * *

Hagrid led Harry and Roisin into a small pub called the Leaky Cauldron, keeping a firm hold on Roisin, who had tried to detour into the large bookshop next door.

Upon entering the pub, Harry and Roisin received the shock of their lives. The small space was filled with people of all shapes and sizes, some not even looking quite human. All wore particularly strange clothing, or what were probably wizarding robes.

The barman recognized Hagrid, who was admittedly somewhat hard to miss, and called out to him. Hagrid shook his head. "Can't, Tom. Hogwarts business, taking Harry to get his school things."

Both Harry and Roisin wished that he had kept to a lower decibel when the entire pub went dead silent.

The next thing they knew, there was a scraping of chairs, and every customer in the place was crowding around trying to shake Harry's hand. Kicking and shoving in an attempt to stay on her feet, Roisin was nearly swept under before she felt herself levitated over the crowd and floating toward a very familiar older woman with red hair and a frown directed at Hagrid.

Roisin was set back on her feet and instantly threw herself into her grandmother's arms. Fionna's face softened into a smile and she hugged the girl as Hagrid finally managed to extract Harry from the mob's clutches.

The small group made their way out to the back of the pub into an alley, where Hagrid started counting bricks above the trashcans. Much to the children's surprise, the wall melted away to reveal a bustling street filled with people, the vast majority dressed like the witches and wizards in the pub.

This time, at least, Hagrid had the wisdom to not, announce their presence, so they quickly made their way to a large building in the middle of the alley. It was Gringotts, the bank that Hagrid had told them about earlier that day.

Looking at the golden gates, Roisin noticed the inscription there, a small but very ominous poem warning potential thieves not to try anything. Happily imagining if they would see the "more than treasure" that the rhyme spoke of, Roisin did a small double-take at the sight of a small, ugly-looking creature with sharp fangs guarding the doors. So that was a goblin.

* * *

Inside, there were goblins weighing, measuring, stamping packages, and all manner of things. Fionna firmly took Roisin's hand and looked up at Hagrid. "You take Harry, I'll take Roisin. I don't like those cart rides and the less time it takes, the better."

Hagrid nodded in agreement and made his way to a goblin teller. Roisin and her grandmother went to another, shorter line. As they waited, Fionna began explaining how things worked. "There are three types of coins in Wizarding currency. There are the gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts. A galleon is worth seventeen sickles, and a sickle is worth twenty-nine knuts. You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

Roisin nodded. "How am I going to pay for Hogwarts, Nana? You can't honestly tell me that Mum or Dad will be willing to open a school account for me."

Fionna laughed. "No, I have to admit that my son has been something of a disappointment in his antipathy for this World. The O'Conner clan is a very old and prominent wizarding family, and they didn't completely disown me when I married your grandfather. Not very keen on Muggles, you see. They thought I was marrying beneath me. But our clan was almost wiped out during the Second World War, so the current Clan Head is willing to ignore the generation of Muggle blood and accept you as part of the Clan. In cases like this, the wishes of the magical relatives take precedence over those of your Muggle relatives."

Roisin nodded in understanding. "Then that's why my Hogwarts letter was addressed to Miss O'Conner, instead of Miss Dursley. So it's all being paid for by the Clan?"

Fionna nodded. "Technically, it should have been Dursley-O'Conner, family name and Clan name, but no matter. I wrote my family as soon as you told me about the incident in your art class, telling them about you. Then I called in a favor with an old friend to get you enrolled. The Clan set up an account for if you were accepted. If you weren't, the money would have reverted to the main vault."

They were at the teller booth now. Fionna produced a golden key from her purse and handed it to the goblin, "School trust fund for Roisin O'Conner, Vault 409."

The goblin carefully inspected the key, and then signaled for another goblin. "Narchak will take you down to the Vaults."

* * *

They followed Narchak through a door and down a stone corridor lit with blazing torches until they reached what looked like a small railway. They got into a small cart and went shooting off into the tunnels at high speed. Roisin's long hair flew out behind her as she leaned over the front of the cart. This was fun! Fionna shut her eyes, gripping the seat tightly.

Eventually, they screeched to a stop outside a small door in the passage wall. Opening the door with the golden key revealed a more than generous amount of gold, silver and bronze coins. Sweeping several of each into a small money-bag, they exited the vault and went on another lightning-fast cart ride back up to the surface.

Exiting into the main lobby, Fionna discreetly handed her granddaughter a hairbrush. Roisin took it, reminding herself to tie her hair up next time she visited Gringotts. The cart ride may have been fun, but it was hell on the hair.

* * *

Walking out of the bank, Fionna pulled out the list of things that Roisin would need for Hogwarts. "We'll go to Flourish and Blotts first, dear. That's the book shop. Hopefully we'll be able to pick up some extra reading to help you get a better grip on how the Magical world works."

The book shop was filled with people, also doing their Hogwarts shopping. Fighting their way through the crowd, the two of them managed to locate _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), a History of Magic, Magical Theory, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions_ and _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection._

Fionna also tracked down _Hogwarts: A History, Magical Families of Brittan and Ireland_ and _Wizardry Throughout the Ages_, insisting that it would make things less confusing once she actually got to Hogwarts.

* * *

After that, they temporarily split up, Fionna going to the Apocathary and a store aptly named "_General and Random Equipment"_for Roisin's potion supplies and other equipment, while Roisin headed for Madam Malkin's: Robes for All Occasions.

After a short wait, a harried looking assistant ushered her over to a stool, slipped a robe over her head, and began pinning it to the right length, taking measurements as she went along.

The stool next to Roisin was occupied by a girl about her age, apparently affected by a chronic inability to stay still for over a minute. The assistant seeing to _her_ looked on the verge of killing someone, only stopping herself at the knowledge of all the commissions she would lose.

Making another valiant effort to stay still, the girl turned to Roisin. "Hi, I'm Desdemona Moon. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

Someone needed to cut this girl's sugar intake. "Roisin Dursley-O'Conner. Yes, I'll be a first-year."

Desdemona's eyes lit up and she bounced on her chair, drawing what sounded like a growl from the assistant. "Me too! Any relation to the O'Conner clan? Mother said that one of them was supposed to be starting this year."

Roisin nodded. "Fionna O'Conner is my Grandmother, but my dad's a squib, so she's bringing me for my supplies."

Desdemona gave her a sympathetic look. "You poor thing. Don't worry, just stick with me and I'll show you the ropes. I wouldn't go around telling everyone that your parents are squibs, though. A lot of people think that it's even worse than being a Muggle-born."

Before Roisin could ask why, the two assistants stood up. Desdemona's assistant looked like she was restraining herself from a celebratory dance as the other said "Well, there you are dears, all finished. Just go to the counter and they'll sort you out."

In short order, they had paid for their robes, along with one or two non-uniform ones, and were out of the shop. Desdemona waved to a red-haired girl just as Fionna walked toward them, along with a stern-looking lady and a young boy who also looked around first-year age.

Fionna smiled at Roisin. "Roisin, this is an old friend of mine, Augusta Longbottom, and her grandson, Neville. Augusta, this is my grand-daughter, Roisin."

Roisin squashed the automatic urge to squirm as Mrs. Longbottom looked at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

Mrs. Longbottom nodded. "A very polite young lady. We will have to catch up together soon, Fionna. Come along Neville, we need to get your robes."

The boy hurried after the old lady, shooting them an apologetic look. Fionna shook her head, and then took Roisin's hand again. "Come along, child. It's time to go choose your wand."

* * *

Choosing wands, it turned out, was no where near as easy as it sounded.

To start with, one had to deal with being shocked out of their skin by the wand-maker, Mr. Ollivander. After that, was the very disconcerting experience of literally being measured from head to toe.

Then, you actually chose the wand.

Roisin and Fionna were joined in the wand shop by Desdemona and the girl she had waved at, Susan Bones, who went to choose her wand first.

The first wand Susan tried was willow and dragon heart-string; she waved it nervously. Roisin ducked as a vase flew through the air, narrowly missing her head. Straightening, she threw Susan a nasty look. Susan returned a slightly sheepish one, and tried a different wand.

Several wands later, Susan settled on a ten inch birch and phoenix feather wand. Quickly paying, Susan waved good bye and ran to meet her aunt, promising to see them at Hogwarts.

Then it was Roisin's turn.

The first few wands were snatched out of her hand only seconds after she had raised them into the air. The ninth wand let out a loud bang, setting a chair cushion on fire.

Twelve wands after that, a thirteen inch redwood and unicorn hair wand erupted in a shower of silver sparks, and Roisin sat down to wait for Desdemona.

Desdemona was much quicker choosing her wand, trying only five or six before settling on a twelve inch oak and dragon heartstring one.

Paying for their wands and exiting the shop, the two girls parted ways, promising to meet at the Hogwarts express.

Fionna cast what she identified as a _point me_ spell to locate Harry and Hagrid, and together they headed back to Privet Drive for a few short months before starting Hogwarts.

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_A/N: OK, another chapter done. I've looked at my hit counter so I know people are reading this. If you have enough time to read this story, I'm sure you can spare another five or ten seconds to review._

_Thanks all,  
Nat_


	5. Journeys and Sortings

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the afore-mentioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

_A/N: Book 7 has come! __My sister got it first, but I finally got my greedy little hands on it yesterday, and finished it in four and a half hours. My little sister is convinced I'm a freak._

_A/N: __**GinnyLover14**__ asked if Roisin being called O'Conner meant that she wasn't related to the Dursleys. To clarify: As mentioned in the last chapter, because she is a witch, the O'Conner clan is willing to accept Roisin. Therefore, her family name in the Wizarding World is O'Conner. In the Muggle World she is still Roisin Dursley. _

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**Chapter Five**

The months between Diagon Alley and leaving for Hogwarts were not fun, but could hardly be called boring, either.

Vernon and Petunia had tried to move Roisin in with Harry, to 'prevent further contamination', but had stopped when Dudley started spewing up slime at random intervals and Roisin could be found with her nose buried in a potions textbook. Finding out that your witch of a daughter was actually willing to use her gifts tended to put things in a much clearer perspective.

Roisin was also now getting what she called the 'Harry Treatment', that is, Vernon and Petunia ignored her existence, and Dudley refused to stay in the same room as her.

Harry was used to this treatment, and actually found it somewhat of an improvement over the Dursleys previous behavior. Roisin, on the other hand, was used to having her parents dote on her, and found it all very lonely and upsetting.

In light of this, Roisin had taken to going on long walks down to the nearest motel, where Fionna had quietly re-located herself to keep an eye on Roisin ever since the confrontation with Vernon about why Fionna showed no surprise at the mention of magic.

It was Fionna who told her that as she technically didn't know yet that she wasn't allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, now would be a good time to get in some practice

Fionna told Roisin stories of her own days at Hogwarts, about the houses, about the ghosts (and poltergeist) and about the things that were best avoided.

Roisin also kept in touch with Desdemona and Susan, promising to meet them on either the platform or the train to Hogwarts.

As September 1st drew nearer, Roisin chose to let Harry deal with asking her parents for transport to Kings Cross. If they agreed, good, and she wouldn't have to interact with them any more than strictly necessary. If they refused, she would just ask her grandmother.

Luckily, that was not necessary, and soon their trunks were packed, ready for Hogwarts.

* * *

September 1st dawned bright and clear. 

Vernon and Petunia had consented to take them to London, on their way to get Dudley's tail removed (Roisin still burst into giggles thinking about it), even going so far as to unload their trunks and put them on a trolley. Roisin was starting to get a very bad feeling about something.

She was proven right when her father looked back at the two of them, grinning nastily. "Well, well, well. Platform 9, Platform 10, but no Platform 9 ¾. Have a fun year."

Roisin muttered something unrepeatable as the rest of the family drove off, laughing.

Then they were left at Kings Cross, with the dilemma of being stuck at the station with no idea of how to get onto the platform.

They only had half an hour, so it would be well past eleven before an owl could get to her grandmother and back, and Fionna was at a friend's for lunch, anyway.

Susan and Desdemona were either on the way to or already at the station, which would make them difficult to owl, since you had to give the owl actual directions, and Hedwig didn't seem to like her much.

Harry finally suggested asking the Station-Master. Roisin gave him a flat look. "There is no way that is going to work. We don't know where the platform is or where in the country Hogwarts is located, and we're magical! What makes you think he'll know?"

Harry frowned at her and went to ask anyway. Roisin sat down on her trolley to wait for him.

Sure enough, the guard Harry approached only looked cross and wanted to know if Harry thought he was being funny. Harry started to walk back to the trolleys, where Roisin waited with an _I-told-you-so_ look, when a plump woman surrounded by a gaggle of red-haired boys and a girl, obviously her children, walked by. "Packed with muggles, as usual…"

That certainly caught his attention. Only magical folk referred to normal people as muggles, as far as he knew. He waved Roisin over as the second-to-last boy disappeared somehow, leaving only the girl and a tall, gangly boy around Harry's age. Oh, well, now or never… "Excuse me, ma'am?"

Roisin came up behind him as the woman turned around. "Oh, hello dear. Hogwarts too?"

Roisin stayed quiet as Harry replied the affirmative. "Yes. See, we don't know how to…"

The woman nodded in understanding. "How to get onto the platform? Just run straight at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Don't be nervous."

Now why would they be nervous about running straight at a brick wall? was Roisin's sarcastic thought as she took off, hearing the little girl wish Harry luck behind her.

Bracing herself for impact, Roisin opened her eyes to see a bright red train and, judging by the number of owls and wizarding robes, a platform full of Hogwarts students and assorted family members.

Snapping out of her awed daze, Roisin dodged out of the way just in time to miss being run over by Harry and the gangly boy.

Catching sight of Desdemona, who was bouncing all over the place like the energizer bunny, Roisin let the boys off with a nasty look and headed over to her friend.

Desdemona stood – sort of – next to a blonde girl, a tall boy, and two other boys who looked like walking definitions of the term 'thug'. Roisin noticed that Hyperactivity was apparently normal with her new friend, as none of the others seemed particularly concerned. 

Or at least, none of them looked disturbed or were backing away slowly.

Waving Roisin over, Desdemona made the introductions. "Roisin, this is Pansy Parkinson," (the blonde girl) "Blaise Zabini," (the tall boy) "and these two here are Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle. Everyone, this is the girl I was telling you about, Roisin O'Conner."

Pansy gave a welcoming smile. "Hi. Any relation to Fionna O'Conner?"

Roisin nodded warily. The Clan hadn't given out details on why Fionna had left the Wizarding World, and Desdemona had suggested that she not mention her muggle heritage. "Grand-daughter. It's nice to meet you all."

Blaise shot her a grin, white teeth contrasting sharply with his darker complexion. "You too. Come on, let's find a place to sit before all the compartments are gone."

* * *

Sure enough, an empty compartment was hard to find. The problem was solved, however, when Crabbe and Goyle (Pansy had said to call them by their last names) had walked into a nearly empty compartment and evicted the two first years previously occupying it. 

Shortly after loading their trunks and settling down for the ride, the train started moving, and they were joined by Millicent Bulstrode and Theo Nott.

Crabbe and Goyle left soon after that, when a blond boy by the name of Draco Malfoy showed up. Roisin didn't think much of her first impression of him, which was a spoilt rich brat that reminded her a bit too much of her brother. Thankfully, Draco didn't stick around for long, taking Crabbe and Goyle with him to annoy the rest of the train.

As the train started to leave main London, Roisin pulled out her Herbology book, the only one she hadn't read. It was amazing how many common plants and flowers could be used in spells, potions and rituals!

Blaise joined her and started a debate over violets verses lavender in calming potions, quickly drawing Millie into the discussion.

Theo started a game of solitaire, and Pansy and Desdemona started looking through the latest edition of _Witch Weekly_. At least it was an improvement to having Desdemona bouncing off the walls.

Around lunchtime, a witch came around with a food trolley, filled with things like pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, and other things that Roisin had never even heard of. 

Fionna had warned Roisin against Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, and she saw no reason to contest that when Theo chose cayenne pepper and looked ready to shoot flames out of his mouth.

The rest of the trip was mostly uneventful, disregarding the reappearance of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who came in complaining about Harry Potter's rejection and some Weasly's 'blasted piece of cat bait!'.

Roisin thought that Malfoy really needed to shut up about the incident. He was starting to sound disturbingly like a jilted lover.

* * *

It was starting to get dark when the announcement came that they would be at Hogsmeade Station in an hour. 

The first-years took this as a cue to change out of every-day clothing and into their new school robes. Smoothing a hand over the soft fabric of her new uniform, Roisin sat down with Pansy and Millicent to re-fix their hair. First impressions were very important.

Desdemona leaned back on her seat. "How do you think we'll be sorted? I heard some older student's telling another first-year about how we have to wrestle a troll."

Theo snorted in disgust. "You have got to be kidding. How is going up against a troll going to get us into a house?"

Roisin snickered, looking up from braiding Pansy's hair. "I don't know. Nana was telling me about the Houses and general defining traits. Maybe the ones who charge in and attack the troll go to Gryffindor, House of the stupidly brave. Those who try to reason with the troll or comfort it into submission go to Hufflepuff, House of the gentle idiot peacemakers. Those who come up with a plethora of spells or knowledgeable facts that might help them find a weak spot go to Ravenclaw, House of the Bookish. Those who wait until the Troll is busy with someone else, then sneak around and shoot it in the back from a safe distance go to Slytherin, House of the clever and devious."

Blaise fell off his seat, keeled over with laughter, just as the announcement came that they would be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop at a small, dark station, and they joined the crowd of students pushing their way to the train doors. 

Piling onto the platform, they could see Hagrid calling the first years over to him, towering head, shoulders and upper torso over the rest of the crowd.

Roisin caught a glimpse of Harry and the red-haired boy from the platform as she and the other first years followed Hagrid down a winding, slippery path, heavily shadowed on both sides.

Finally, the path opened onto the shore of an enormous lake, and there was a collective 'Oooooh!' from the students as they had their first glimpse of Hogwarts.

Perched on top of the high cliff that rose before them on the other side of the lake, its many windows shone with light, illuminating the castle's towers and spires against the backdrop of the starry night sky.

Docked nearby was a fleet of little boats. Roisin joined Desdemona, Blaise and Theo, directing Goyle back over to Malfoy at Hagrid's cry of "No more'n four to a boat!"

Once everyone was more or less settled in a boat, Hagrid took a last look around, checking for stragglers. "Everybody in? Right, _forward_!"

The lake was as smooth as black glass as the little fleet of boats sailed across it, closer and closer to the cliff. Everyone ducked their heads at Hagrid's warning, and they passed through a curtain of ivy, down a dark tunnel, and into a huge lit cavern that seemed to serve as some kind of underground harbor.

Everyone clambered out of the boats with only a few near dunkings, then up a shadowed passageway to emerge in front of Hogwarts. They walked up a small flight of stone steps, and stopped in front of the huge oak doors.

Hagrid raised a fist and knocked three times on the carved wood.

* * *

The doors opened immediately, revealing a stern faced witch with black hair, wearing emerald robes and glasses that somehow only made her seem even more intimidating. Roisin got the impression that she was much like Granny Fionna; gentle and loving to family and close friends, but crossing her could only be described as A Very Bad Idea. This must be Professor McGonagall. 

The professor opened the doors wide and led the first years into Hogwarts. The Entrance Hall was brightly lit with torches and candles, and big enough to fit Roisin's entire house several times over. A magnificent marble staircase led to the upper floors.

A doorway to their right lead to the Great Hall, and Roisin could hear the sound of hundreds of voices as the rest of the school waited for them.

Professor McGonagall led them across the floor and into a small chamber. The first years crowded in, standing somewhat closer to each other than they normally would. Glancing over at Blaise, Malfoy and Theo, Roisin recognized the expressions on their face. It was one that Dudley frequently wore when an authority figure showed up when his little gang was up to something. The 'I'm-Absolutly-Terrified-But-I'll-Die-Before-Actually-Admitting-It-In-Public' look.

Professor McGonagall called for their attention and started what sounded like a traditional welcoming speech. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The banquet will begin shortly, but first, you will all be sorted into your houses and take your seats at your House Table. The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own great and noble history, and all have produced outstanding witches and wizards. While at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will sleep in your House Dormitories, take classes with your House Year mates, and your free time will be spent in your House Common Room. Through the year, your successes will earn you House Points, while any rule breaking will lose House Points."

As the Professor spoke, Roisin had the feeling that Points would be the least of their problems if Professor McGonagall caught any of them breaking rules.

Regardless of Roisin's thoughts, the woman continued. "At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup. I hope that you each are a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes. I suggest you take the time to straighten yourselves up while you wait. I will return when we are ready for you."

Pansy looked about ready to faint with nerves as Professor McGonagall left the room. Other students took the Professor up on her suggestion, straightening cloaks and nervously asking the person next to them if they had anything on their faces.

Roisin was desperately wishing for anything to happen to get her mind off her nerves, when several people screamed. Spinning around with a gasp, Roisin decided that she really needed to be careful what she wished for. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, a stream of about twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall and across the room. A girl with blonde pigtails practically dived out of the way as a ghost threatened to pass through her.

The ghosts seemed to be arguing, a fat man in a friar's habit in heated discussion with a ghost in a 15th century nobleman's ruff and tights. The fat friar was speaking, apparently protesting on someone's behalf. "…Forgive and forget, I say. We ought to give him another chance…"

The ghost with the ruff cut him off in exasperation. "My dear friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name, and he isn't really even a ghost! Oh! What are you lot doing here?"

The ghosts had finally noticed the students. Ironically, many of the students looked like they would have preferred to remain ignored. The fat friar beamed at them. "New student's, I suppose? About to be sorted?"

A few of the faster-recovering students nodded mutely.

The friar beamed. "Excellent! Hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old House, you know!"

Roisin immediately resolved to_ not_ be in Hufflepuff. The friar was way too cheerful than could be healthy, ghost or otherwise.

They were interrupted by Professor McGonagall's return. Giving the first years a final quick once over, the Deputy Headmistress instructed them to form a line and lead them into the Great Hall.

* * *

Entering the Hall, Roisin barely held back a gasp of wonder. The room was lit by thousands of candles that floated above the four tables, set with golden plates and goblets. The rest of the student body sat at the tables, dotted here and there by the occasional ghost. At the front of the Hall was another table, where the teachers were seated. 

Trying to avoid the eyes looking at her, Roisin looked up, and stifled another gasp. Granny Fionna had mentioned that the ceiling was charmed to look like the sky outside, but even knowing that still made it hard to believe that the hall didn't just open out into the heavens.

Roisin felt her nervousness return as the first years walked down between the two center tables, every eye in the Great Hall on them. They formed a line at the front of the Hall, facing the teacher's table. In front of them, Professor McGonagall placed a three legged stool and a pointed hat, dirty, patched and frayed.

Trying not to show her surprise, Roisin thought of how her mother would react upon seeing the hat. Probably would have fallen into a seizure out of sheer horror.

Reflecting on this, Roisin nearly missed the hat starting to sing. It started with a short introduction, then went on to give a description of each House and its characteristics and values. Finishing the song, the hat bowed to each of the four tables and fell silent.

In the applause that followed, Blaise leaned over from his spot next to her, whispering, "We just have to try on the hat? So much for wrestling a troll! I wanted to see how many Gryffindors got squashed!"

Roisin hushed him, giggling, as the first two students (Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones) were sent to Hufflepuff. The fat friar waved merrily.

Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst went to Ravenclaw, followed by Lavender Brown to Gryffindor, and then it was Millicent's turn.

The girl was pale as she walked up to the hat on wobbly legs, and practically fell into her seat at the table second from the right when the hat pronounced her a 'SLYTHERIN!'

Trying not to faint with nerves, Roisin concentrated on the sorting. The hat seemed to take different amounts of time with different students. Some were sent to a House almost immediately, whereas the current victim, sorry, student, Seamus Finnegan, had been sitting on the stool for almost a minute now.

The boy from Diagon Alley, Neville Longbottom, actually fell over on his way up to be sorted, and when he was pronounced a Gryffindor, forgot to take it off before going to his new table. Roisin tried not to laugh too hard as he jogged back to give it to MacDougal, Morag.

Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin less than five seconds after the hat had touched his head. The student after him was sent to Gryffindor. Desdemona whimpered quietly as her name was called. Roisin was too anxious about her name coming up to offer any reassurance.

Desdemona went to Slytherin after several seconds pause, and then it was "O'Conner, Roisin!"

Blaise gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she walked up to the hat. Roisin felt the hat descend on her head, and then it was like a little voice whispering in her ear. _Where to place you, hmmm? Brains, and a desire to learn, but a bit too ruthless for Ravenclaw. Loyalty, but very exclusive, people have to earn it first._ Roisin wished the hat would get on with it. Her grandmother had said that Gryffindor was the most popular house, maybe she should try to go there. That would show her parents! She would be great, rising above everyone else! Her plans to convince the hat were cut short when it exclaimed _Well, that settles it. SLYTHERIN!_

Relieved that the hat had finally chosen_ somewhere_, Roisin joined Desdemona and Millicent, trying to stop herself from shaking with relief. Theo and Pansy quickly joined them.

There was quite a commotion when Harry's turn came, with nearly everyone in the Hall pointing and whispering, and the Gryffindor table being just a bit too enthusiastic when Harry joined them.

By the time the cheers died down, there were only three people left. Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw, followed by the boy from the station, Ron Weasly, joining Harry in Gryffindor.

By now, Blaise was looking decidedly green, enough so that Roisin was sure that there were going to be any number of truly awful jokes when he was finally sorted into Slytherin.

The Headmaster rose to his feet, spreading his arms open as Professor McGonagall took away the hat and stool. After a very short speech that made little to no sense, the students cheered and the previously empty dishes were suddenly piled high with food.

Helping herself to roast chicken, chips and vegetables, Roisin began to eat, listening to the dinner chatter around her.

* * *

As the food disappeared, to be replaced by a variety of puddings, the talk turned to their families. 

Some, like Draco Malfoy, were only children. ("Sole heir to the Malfoy name and fortune, you know." Hopefully the Malfoy line would end with him, too, if the rest of his family was like this.)

Theo and Pansy were also without siblings, but Desdemona had a younger brother who was due to start next year, and another who would arrive two years after that. Roisin sent up a silent prayer that they were a bit less active than their sister.

Millicent had an older sister who had left the previous year, and a brother who would start with Desdemona's youngest one. Blaise also had siblings who had already graduated, but was stuck as the baby of the family. Millicent assured him that being older was overrated, as younger siblings only followed you around to annoy you on a regular basis.

Taking a bite of treacle tart, Draco looked over to Roisin. "What about you? Tell us about the mysterious O'Conner clan."

Roisin rolled her eyes. "If I told you then we wouldn't be mysterious, would we? My father's a squib, much to everyone's shame and dismay, and so is my brother, but my grandparents and the rest of the clan is all magical. It's completely unheard of for anyone to even marry a non-magical person."

Skirting the truth, but no outright lies. Fionna may have married a muggle-born wizard, but he was still a wizard, and Aunt Lily had been a witch, so perhaps there was a recessive gene there.

An eavesdropping third year leaned over. "I heard Harry Potter on the train, says you're his cousin. What's that about?"

Roisin glared. "Does it matter? I'm my own person, regardless of family connections. I don't need his fame to prove anything!"

A fourth year had also been listening in, and grinned at her. "Hey, it's all good. Be a credit to Slytherin House and no one will care who you are related to." The fourth year glared at Draco Malfoy, who had the beginnings of a sneer on his face. "Right, everyone?"

Whether they agreed or not, nobody found it important enough to press the issue, especially with an older student, and conversation turned to more mundane topics.

* * *

As the pudding also disappeared, Dumbledore rose to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahem. Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few announcements to make. First years should take note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, as should some of our older students." 

His eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table. A pair of red-head twins tried and failed to look innocent.

"I have also been asked by the caretaker to remind you that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes."

Dumbledore continued on to something about Quidditch trials as Roisin shared a glance with Desdemona. She gave it a day at most before most of Hogwarts was breaking that rule.

Her amusement was cut short at Dumbledore's next announcement. "And finally, I must inform you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is off-limits to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few of the students on the other tables laughed. Everyone else just exchanged confused or slightly worried looks.

Dumbledore dropped most of his seriousness now, smiling brightly. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Dumbledore's smile may have been genuine, but the other teacher's smiles became rather fixed. Roisin could have sworn that some of them actually paled.

A long ribbon shot out of Dumbledore's wand, twisting itself into words. "Now, everyone pick your favorite tune, and off we go!"

The song was very un-co-coordinated, with everyone singing at different speeds and finishing at different times. Several of the older Slytherin students remained stubbornly silent.

Finally, only the Gryffindor twins were left, singing to a very slow funeral march. Roisin thought that it might very well be _their_ funeral march if they didn't shut up soon. Indeed, the teachers were among those who clapped the loudest when they finished, and promptly ordered the students off to bed.

The two fifth year prefects led the Slytherin first years out of the hall to their dormitories. Sleepily, Roisin noticed that they were heading down into the dungeons.

Arriving at what looked like a blank stretch of wall, the female prefect called out to them. "Listen up, all of you," (Pansy jerked awake from where she had been dozing on Millicent's shoulder.) "To get into the Common Room, you will need to know the password It changes every week, and you will be informed every Monday of the new one."

Turning to the wall, the male prefect spoke. "_Discretion over valor."_

The wall slid aside before their eyes, revealing a large room decorated in green and silver. The students walked in, looking around at the decorations. The female prefect called for their attention once more. "Normally, there would be an orientation speech, but I think that can wait until morning. Girls follow me, boys go with Tiberius, and we'll show you to your dorms."

She led the girls down a corridor while the boys disappeared down another. Arriving at a door labeled 'First Years', she opened the door to a large and tastefully decorated room with four large beds. Ushering them inside, she pointed to their trunks, stashed against one of the walls. "You can pick your own bed. You can unpack tomorrow, so go to sleep. I'll see all of you in the morning."

Choosing a bed close to the window, Roisin pulled out her nightgown and quickly changed, then fell straight into bed. The other girls did much the same, not even bothering to mumble a goodnight.

Closing her eyes, Roisin immediately headed off to the land of dreams.

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* * *

__You've spent however long reading this, (yes, that means __**you**__, I checked my hit counter) I'm sure you can spend another ten seconds to leave a review.  
__Seriously, tell me what you think. Does it need to be improved? How? Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames will be laughed at._

_Thanks!  
__Nathalia._


	6. The First Day and Classes

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

_A/N: It took me two tries to get the timetable right, as my computer apparently won't accept document tables on ff.n. If anyone is confused, this should clear it up._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Roisin was woken up the next morning by a loud '_squee'_ of delight. Mentally planning something nasty if Desdemona didn't shut up, though she would probably decide against actually doing anything once she was properly awake, Roisin threw back the covers and got out of bed.

Pansy and Millicent were reluctantly rising from their own beds, stifling yawns. Desdemona was standing by the window, looking out. "Hey, guys, you have got to come see this!"

The source of her delight became obvious, and Roisin was forced to agree. Their dormitory was apparently cut into the cliff itself, and the window opened onto a spectacular view of the lake and surrounding landscape.

They were drawn back into the room by a knock on the door. The fifth year prefect from the night before poked her head in. "Hey. You've got the Orientation Meeting in the common room in half an hour. Get cleaned up and get down there."

Collecting her uniform and a change of underwear, Roisin took the chance to look around the room. It was spacious, and well laid out. One wall had the door that connected them to the rest of the house and two bookcases for books and other school supplies. Nearby were a table and several chairs. The wall with the window and the one facing it had two beds each, Roisin and Desdemona on the wall with the window. Each bed had a small wardrobe and draws/vanity on the left side, and a single-person desk and chair on the right, complete with bookstand and an empty stationary set. The last wall had a door that connected to a large bathroom.

Grabbing her toiletries and going into the bathroom, Roisin blinked in surprise. Expecting something like the communal bathroom in the motel where she had stayed on the run from the Hogwarts letters, she was amazed to see three showers and a large bathtub, along with four sink-and-cupboards. It looked sort of like four separate bathrooms merged into one. Two more doors were marked 'WC'.

Catching Roisin's expression, Pansy grinned. "Some of the Slytherin Alumina made a complaint about living standards a couple of years ago, something about how miserable dungeon conditions were when there was no fresh air to dry things out. So, they made a big donation to renovate the bathrooms and now we have this."

Remembering the Orientation, the four girls quickly showered (Desdemona sulked at having to wait for someone to finish their shower unless she wanted to take the time to run a bath), brushed their teeth, and changed. Running down to the common room, they arrived a few seconds before the boys.

* * *

The Orientation was fairly simple, consisting mainly of introducing the prefects (the sixth year prefects would be showing them to their first lesson of each class.) and a basic run-down of the Do's and Don'ts of Slytherin. **Do** be a credit to your House, **Do Not** get caught breaking rules (feel free to break them, just don't get caught) **Do** stick together. Slytherins stand up for each other, because it is unlikely that anyone else will.** Do Not **show weakness or friction where any other House might see, and so on.

They were also introduced to their Head of House, Professor Snape, who Desdemona had pointed out at the feast last night.

Professor Snape was a tall man, with dark hair and sallow skin. His voice was low and intense, almost hypnotic as he fixed them with his dark eyes. "Welcome to Slytherin. I trust that you will all be a credit to your house. If you are ever in need of assistance, your prefects are here. If you have a problem that you believe may be too big for them, my door will always be open."  
However intimidating Professor Snape's appearance may have been, his words rang true. The professor's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over the room, pausing momentarily here and there. "Despite popular opinion, Slytherin is not a breeding ground for dark wizards. Slytherin is the house for those who wish to rise above expected limitations, to be all that they can be. Blood does matter, yes, but ability matters more. If I catch any of you harassing another Slytherin on basis of origin or bloodline, there will be trouble.  
Because of misrepresentation, other houses will discriminate against you. You are likely to hear derogatory generalizations about Slytherin House. Avoid confrontations while other teachers are about, but do not be afraid to defend yourselves if need be. If I don't hear about it, then it didn't happen. Breakfast will be starting soon, so I suggest that you make your way to the Great Hall. You have a full day of classes ahead of you."

* * *

The sixth-year prefects led the way up to the Great Hall and Breakfast. While the fare was not as spectacular as last night's feast, it was still some of the best Roisin had ever tasted.

Roisin spotted Harry over at Gryffindor table, still looking a bit tired, and waved. Harry lifted a hand slightly in return, but the red-head next to him shot her a nasty look. Desdemona leaned over to whisper in Roisin's ear, "Ignore the Weasly boy. Probably just upset about a 'slimy Slytherin' being friends with a noble Gryffindor."

Were House rivalries really that bad? Roisin had thought that Professor Snape was just being a bit dramatic. She put it aside as Desdemona's expression of overly exaggerated aloofness sent the rest of the first years into a fit of giggles.

About half way through the meal, weekly class schedules were handed out. Roisin and the other first-years could barely wait to get started, although the prefects warned them that the novelty of it would wear off somewhere in the first few weeks. The prefects obviously didn't know Desdemona; Roisin doubted that _anything_ would manage to dampen _her_ enthusiasm. Besides, Roisin was a witch learning how to do magic! It was almost enough to distract her from thinking about how much her family disagreed with that stance.

Roisin glanced at her schedule. Term started on a Wednesday, which made it slightly confusing, but it wasn't too bad.

**Monday  
**9:00 – 10:30  
Herbology

10:40 – 12:10  
Charms

1:10 – 2:40  
Potions

2:50 – 4:20  
Transfiguration

**Tuesday  
**9:00 – 10:30  
Potions

10:40 – 12:10  
Defense

1:10 – 2:40  
Astronomy (Theory)

Midnight- 2:00  
Astronomy (Prac)

**Wednesday  
**9:00 – 10:30  
History of Magic

10:40 – 12:10  
Defense

1:10 – 2:40  
Herbology

2:50 – 4:20  
Charms

**Thursday  
**9:00 – 10:30  
Transfiguration

10:40 – 12:10  
Transfiguration

1:10 – 2:40  
Defense

2:50 – 4:20  
Charms

**Friday  
**9:00 – 11:30  
Potions

11:40 - 1:10  
Herbology

Given that the lessons took place in a large castle, the ten minutes between subjects was probably so the students could get from one class to another on time. At least they would get plenty of exercise.

The subjects were fascinating. Most of their classes were taught along with another house. For example, Herbology would be held with Ravenclaw, Transfiguration with Hufflepuff, and Potions with Gryffindor. Roisin had a Very Bad Feeling about the last one.

While the subjects themselves sounded fascinating, actually navigating the castle to reach the classrooms was nowhere near as fun. Roisin had been right when she guessed that the ten minutes was because of the location of the class and size of the castle, but as it turned out, ten minutes was a hopeful estimate. Roisin had thought this very strange when she heard some older students grumbling about it, but had discovered the reason right after her first class.

There were over a hundred different staircases in Hogwarts, and half of them had a trick step or two, some even changing position on random days. There were doors that refused to open without a password, or were hidden behind a tapestry, or led somewhere different on a Tuesday. To complicate things even more, none of the portraits stayed in one place, Roisin was sure that some of the suits of armor could move, and the statues/paintings/etc that could give directions, frequently refused to.

The Ghosts probably enjoyed it, Roisin thought uncharitably, as one floated away wearing what looked suspiciously like a smirk. They might be dead and stuck on this plane for the foreseeable future, but being Ghosts meant that they could float and walk through walls, rather than almost reaching a destination and then doubling back for a different route because a stairway suddenly decided to move.

It was really no wonder that Hogwarts had a resident Poltergeist, who went by the very appropriate name of Peeves. Poltergeists were spirits created by turbulent emotions, often boosted by latent magic in the area. After a thousand years of students cursing the capricious nature of the castle while they were trying to get somewhere, and about half of the population going through adolecence and its associated trials at any given time, it was actually a wonder that they only had one.

Admittedly, however, it could have been worse. The prefects showed them around, and the Slytherin Ghost, called the Bloody Baron, kept Peeves the Poltergeist away from them.

Peeves's mission in un-life seemed to be causing trouble and mayhem in the most obnoxious way possible. As Harry complained to Roisin during one of their shared classes, the Poltergeist "was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase."

* * *

The classes were defiantly worth it though. Herbology was taught by a witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned about the various plants and fungi and their different uses. Pansy and a few of the other first-years (mostly girls but also Draco and a few boys) wailed about dirt on their robes, but Roisin thought it was wonderful, even if it wasn't her strongest subject.

Charms was taught by a tiny wizard by the name of Professor Flitwick. He was so short that he had to stand on a stack of books to see over the desk. Nevertheless, he knew what he was doing, even if he was a bit excitable.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, who quickly proved Roisin's first impression correct: She was not a woman to mess with. As soon as they had sat down, she started with a stern lecture about how Transfiguration was a serious subject and should be taken seriously. Anyone fooling around would leave and would not be coming back.

Professor McGonagall changed her desk into a pig and back again, and then set them to taking a lot of complicated notes. Finally, they were all given a matchstick and set to work trying to turn it into a needle. Roisin managed to get the stick and the lump of beeswax to turn smooth, but at the end of the lesson, only Blaise, Theo and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff had made any noticeable difference to their needles.

In Astronomy, they had two separate classrooms. Theory was held on Tuesday afternoon, then Practical at midnight at the top of the tallest tower. Roisin and most of her friends thought this profoundly unfair, as they had to actually get up the next morning, but as Blaise pointed out, they could always make up for it in History of Magic, which was their first subject the next day. As long as you stayed awake the first five minutes to get the day's assignment and homework, you could spend the rest of the ninty minutes catching up on missed sleep.

Blaise was right. History of Magic was even more boring than listening to Roisin's father talk about work at the end of the day. Even the students who didn't have Astronomy the night before tended to sleep through it, and simply studied the material out of the text book.

Defense against the Dark Arts was an amazing let-down. Roisin had seen Professor Quirrel at the Leaky Cauldron, but had been too busy fighting the crowd to actually meet him. Therefore, the first-years had entered full of excitement, eagerly wondering what they would learn first… and promptly discovered Professor Quirrel to be a stuttering idiot who seemed to have very little idea what he was doing

What the Slytherins were really looking forward to, however, was Potions.

* * *

Potions was taught by Professor Snape, and held with the Gryffindors, which meant that House Rivalry Entertainment was a given.  
Rumours flew that Professor Snape favoured Slytherin, but the first-years put little stock in that. Professor Snape was well-liked by the House as a whole, protecting them, never too busy to put down what he was doing to help them when they needed it, with anything from directions to homework.

This was especially appreciated because it seemed that Professor Snape was the only one who would. The other students avoided Slytherin, and the signs were small, but it was obvious that several of the other teachers looked down on Slytherin. As Pansy had summed up: "It's all talk, I think. Even if it is true, if Professor Snape doesn't favour us, who will?"

Whether it was true or not, the first-years were up early, dressed, breakfasted, and lining up outside the potions classroom well before the bell rang.

The Gryffindors seemed un-nerved by the dungeon atmosphere, and especially by the pickled ingredients floating in jars that lined the walls. Roisin and the other Slytherins, whose dorms were in the dungeons, had no real problem, although Roisin had to admit that some of the things that they would use were a little creepy.

Class was fun, however. Roisin had the sneaking suspicion that Professor Snape had something against Harry, but it could have been as simple as the fact that he had been muttering with Weasley about Professor Snape favouring Slytherin, for all she knew.

Snape started class by calling the register, then a small speech on what they would be doing.

"There will be no foolish wand waving in this class. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even stopper death." He glared at the class, specifically Gryffindor, "That is if you aren't as big a bunch of idiots as I usually have to teach."

A bushy-haired Gryffindor girl who had responded to 'Hermione Granger' was bouncing on the edge of her seat, looking almost desperate to prove that she wasn't an idiot.

The Slytherins were just as eager, but they at least knew not to be so obvious about it. Those with older siblings already knew that Professor Snape chose a student in the first class of every year to ask more advanced questions, and had warned their House-Mates in advance. While they were dying to know who it would be, no-one wanted to be singled out and potentially made a fool of in the first lesson.

The unfortunate student turned out to be Harry, who jumped as Professor Snape called on him. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Roisin mentally ran through the studying that they had done last night. Asphodel was a very pretty flower with several symbolic purposes. Its roots, harvested at the end of the first year, had several uses. In potions, it was most often used as a powerful sleeping agent.

Hermione Granger's hand shot up, but Professor Snape ignored her as he waited for Harry's answer. Roisin saw her cousin exchange a confused look with Ron Weasley, who shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

The Professor sneered at them, making a comment about fame not being everything. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Roisin had fallen asleep the chapter before that in her potions book, so she waited for the answer, along with most of the class. Hermione looked ready to bounce out of her seat. "I don't know, sir."

Professor Snape's last question was concerning the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane. Desdemona had been studying that last night, before Millicent had thrown a pillow and told her to turn the light off and go to sleep. Roisin raised an eyebrow at her partner, who whispered that they were the same plant, also going by the name of aconite.

By now, Hermione Granger was actually standing up, stretching her hand as far up as it would go. Roisin shook her head; that was probably one of the _worst_ ways to get Professor Snape's attention, and was more than likely to just annoy him.

Sure enough, Professor Snape sharply told her to sit down, took a point from Gryffindor for Harry's admittedly cheeky response, and gave them the correct answers, which they quickly wrote down.

They were then set to making a simple boil-reducing potion, as Professor Snape moved around the classroom, offering both praise and criticism.

Draco and Theo had just finished stewing their horned slugs, and Roisin and Desdemona were adding half an ounce of frog-spawn to their potion, when acrid green smoke began to fill the air. Coughing, everyone started looking around for the source.

Neville Longbottom, the Gryffindor boy that Roisin had met in Diagon Alley, had somehow managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob, and the potion was now seeping slowly across the floor, hissing and eating its way through people's shoes.

Almost immediately, everyone was standing on their chairs, trying to avoid the potion. Furious, Professor Snape rounded on the unfortunate boy, who had been drenched when the cauldron had exploded. "Idiot boy! I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Sitting at the front, Roisin and Desdemona had the clearest path to the door. Practically snarling, Professor Snape directed Roisin to take Neville to the hospital wing. Letting Neville find his own way across the potion-covered floor, Roisin gathered her books and parchment together. Resisting the urge to sigh as Neville tripped over his own feet, Roisin helped the unfortunate boy, now literally covered in boils, out of the dungeons and up to the hospital wing, where she quickly explained what had happened, then hurried back downstairs for Herbology.

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_Nat_


	7. Disasters and Discoveries

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Despite the minor disaster of the first potions lesson, life at Hogwarts progressed more or less normally for the next few weeks.

The other first year Slytherins had been rather vague about what had happened after she left the class with Neville to put all the Gryffindors in such a bad mood, but Roisin didn't bother to enquire too deeply. With the House Rivalry as it was, she would probably get a multitude of different accounts, with not enough facts to sort out which was correct, and if she wanted that much of a headache, she could just do an extra-credit Transfiguration essay.

Roisin did notice that Professor Snape was being unusually nasty to the Gryffindors, but then they hadn't been all that polite to the Slytherins, either. Regardless, nothing happened to really stir the waters of everyday school life.

Roisin still kept in close touch with her grandmother, who sent weekly letters and monthly packages of sweets, answering any questions that Roisin might have, telling her general news, and mentioning that she wanted Roisin to meet the rest of the Clan over Christmas, although she would need to get permission from Roisin's parents first.

Roisin didn't fool herself into thinking that her parents would be in any way pleased about letting Roisin go and meet any more 'Freaks' than she already knew, much less give permission. Pushing aside the stab of hurt that she had been resolutely not thinking about, Roisin immediately started looking over possible ways to persuade them. She was Slytherin, after all, so she was supposed to be cunning. If she wanted permission to visit somewhere over the holidays, then she would figure out a way get it.

Classes went well, aside from Professor Quirril's hopeless incompetence in teaching them Defence against the Dark Arts. The Slytherin First years solved that problem by studying out of their books and convincing the older years to let them watch and take notes while they practiced curses and Defence-related spells.

All in all, nothing really happened to shake things up until the notices were posted for the first flying lessons of the year. More specifically, which House they would be sharing lessons with.

Gryffindor.

Oh, this promised problems.

* * *

On the first day of flying lessons, Roisin woke with an unusual feeling of trepidation.

Sadly, it turned out that this feeling was not unfounded. While Draco Malfoy's family was highly-placed, that did not make him the ruler of Slytherin. Family aside, there was still a pecking order, and unless you were capable of hexing the older years to hell and back, you tried to stay on their good side.

Draco's family had apparently not taught him that while blood did matter in Slytherin; ability, cunning, ambition and subtlety mattered more. Especially when other people knew a lot more than you did and could make you regret mouthing off. Yet another lecture on this by one of the seventh years had put Draco in a sulk, and when his attempt to rile up the Gryffindors at breakfast backfired, that degenerated into a Bad Mood.

It was an unfortunate, but well known fact in Slytherin that when Draco Malfoy was in a Bad Mood, he was likely to do something stupid.

* * *

The 'Something Stupid' happened in Flying Lessons.

Malfoy was stretched to the limit when Madam Hooch told him that he had been flying wrong for years and the other Slytherin first years were either exchanging worried looks or keeping a close eye on Draco.

They were granted a short, if highly amusing reprieve, when Ron Weasley's broom jumped up hard enough to whack him in the face, and then had to concentrate on Madam Hooch as she explained the basics of taking off.

In most classes, students were given a demonstration of what _to_ do. In Flying Lessons, they got an unplanned demonstration of what _not_ to do.

Neville Longbottom panicked, and shot at least thirty feet into the air before losing control and plummeting back down to earth, hitting the ground with a sickening 'crack'.

Roisin supposed that they should at least be thankful that Malfoy waited until Madam Hooch took Neville to the hospital wing, and was thus out of sight and hearing range, before he burst out laughing.

Or maybe not, since the presence of a teacher might have stopped what happened next.

A few of the other Slytherins joined him in loud amusement, although more from lack of original thought (Crabbe and Goyle) or amusement at the Gryffindors' faces (Pansy, Desdemona and Theo) than from actual maliciousness.

The Gryffindor Patil twin, Parvati, glared at the Slytherins, snapping at them to shut up. She blushed slightly when Pansy returned with a sneering remark about liking the unfortunate boy. Roisin frowned at them both. "Knock it off, Pansy. Why are we sinking to Gryffindor level, anyway? Especially when Hooch is probably sending a teacher to keep an eye on us until she gets back."

This convinced most of the laughing Slytherins to shut up. No one wanted to be compared with the Gryffindors, after all, and no sane person wanted to risk Professor Snape's wrath by being the first to get in major trouble.

Draco, however, just didn't seem to know when to quit.

Neville Longbottom's red globe that he had received at breakfast that morning had fallen out of his pocked when he fell, and was lying on the grass. Draco snatched it up, but before one of the other Slytherin first years could say anything to stop him from making things worse, Harry stepped up to challenge him and try to get it back.

Knowing her cousin's intolerence for taking other people's things (a side-effect of living with Dudley) and beginning to get a grasp on Draco's character, Roisin could only watch as Draco grabbed a broom and shot into the air, closely pursued by Harry.

Roisin buried her head in her hands, not bothering to join the rest of the class in either cheering the two boys on or yelling at them to get down. This was not going to end well.

Her head snapped up again when the cheers turned into horrified gasps. She followed the rest of the class's gaze to where Harry had turned his broomstick into a steep dive, flying after the red ball that Draco had either dropped or thrown.

Blaise winced as Roisin paled and grabbed his arm a bit too tightly, terrified that her cousin was going to be little more than a hole in the Quidditch Pitch. Harry managed to pull his broom up in time, however, and tumbled onto the soft grass.

Blaise managed to steady Roisin as she let out a faint whimper and nearly fell over in relief. Because of this, they both failed to notice Professor McGonagall heading toward the class with all the subtlety of a guided missile.

Despite protests from Weasley and Parvati Patil, the Deputy Headmistress marched Harry off, just as Madam Hooch returned. Unfortunately for Draco, Madam Hooch did listen to the Gryffindor's protests, and removed twenty points from Slytherin, along with spending the coming weekend in detention.

This was not going to go down well.

* * *

Tuning out the lecture that Draco received from Professor Snape, and the second one from the prefects, Roisin worried herself into a right state until dinner, where she rushed over to the Gryffindor table as soon as she spotted Harry.

Harry assured her that he was not expelled, but remained very close mouthed about what his actual punishment had been. Trying to pry information out of him while ignoring the youngest Weasley glaring holes in her back, Roisin finally gave up and stalked off in a huff. Excuse her for caring about him going back to the Dursleys for the rest of his life!

Still fuming, and stabbing her food a bit harder than was strictly necessary, Roisin barely noticed Draco's absence until he came over and sat down across from her. "Worried about your cousin, Rosie?"

Roisin shot the blond boy a dark look. "_Don't_ call me Rosie, you idiot. He's my cousin, and getting expelled means going back to the Muggle World until he reaches the age of majority. Of course I'm worried!"

Draco grinned at her. "He's not expelled over the Broomstick incident this afternoon, if that's what you're worried about. He might get in trouble over the duel we're having in the trophy room tonight, though."

The other Slytherins within hearing range stared at him in disbelief. Millicent said what they were probably all thinking. "Draco, you just got a double lecture about what happened this afternoon. You can't honestly be thinking about breaking curfew tonight as well! _You'll_ be the one expelled this time, along with anyone stupid enough to go with you!"

Scowling at them, Draco stormed out of the Great Hall; presumably back to the Slytherin Common Room, muttering about the Great and Noble house of Malfoy not being scared about going against 'that stupid scar-head'.

Roisin sighed and moved her plate out of the way, before thumping her head onto the table. "I thought Slytherin's were supposed to be _intelligent_. Are we sure that Draco got put in the right house?"

Blaise leaned over and patted her arm. "Probably a Legacy Placement. We'll figure something out, Roisin, don't worry. Malfoy already looks like enough of an idiot without getting his arse kicked by a Gryffindor."

* * *

The plan for stopping Draco turned out to be quite simple.

After a quick word to Professor Snape, who was less than pleased, the first years (Aside from Draco and Crabbe) pretended to go upstairs to bed, but then snuck back down to hide in the common room. At half past eleven, Draco and Crabbe stood up and began to make their way out of the concealed wall that hid the Common Room.

At this point, the rest of the year stopped them with the simple act of dog-piling the both of them, performing the full body-bind (recently learned from a fifth-year who helped them in Defense) and dragging them back to the dorms at wand-point.

When a prefect came to investigate the noise, they told the prefect what was going on, and the prefect simply locked all of the first years into their gender-respective rooms, promising to let them out in the morning.

Silently cursing Draco Malfoy to the moon and back, Roisin curled up in her bed. She would ambush Harry the next morning before breakfast, and get the details from him.

Then she'd figure out how much of a hexing Draco deserved, even if she wasn't good enough with magic to actually give it to him, and rant about the whole mess in her next letter to Fionna.

* * *

Whatever had happened, it had made Harry and the Weasley boy very jumpy the next morning.

Harry had always been quick on his feet, due to avoiding Dudley and his gang, but they were always somewhat hard to miss, and Roisin would have the element of surprise. This turned out not to be a good thing, as Roisin had barely dragged them into the small room off the Hall, when she found herself at the business end of two wands.

Refusing to look intimidated, regardless of what she actually felt, Roisin glared at the two boys when they noticed it was her and relaxed slightly. "What the hell happened last night? Draco was going on about some kind of duel between you!"

The Weasley boy made a derisive noise. "Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel all right. Then the poncy bastard didn't even show up, did he."

Roisin scowled at him. "Much as I'd like to think otherwise, I was reading up on Wizarding Family Trees, and Draco is legitimate, even is he is an absolute moron. He didn't show because we told the prefects and ambushed him before he could sneak out. But that doesn't answer my question. What the Hell happened?"

Harry sighed and checked that no-one else was listening. "We went to the trophy room and nearly got caught by Filch. We managed to escape, but wound up in the third-floor corridor. Found out why it was forbidden, too. Last time I go near the place."

The Weasley boy, who she was not going to call by name until he stopped acting like she was evil because of which House she was in, gave her a suspicious look. "Why do you care so much, anyway?"

Roisin glared back. "Because as thick-headed as he occasionally is, I don't want my cousin expelled. Because Draco has a big mouth and if I didn't ask you what happened, someone else would, and they wouldn't be as nice."

Weasley looked slightly abashed. "Yeah, well, tell anyone about what happened and I'll hex you."

Roisin's wand was out in a flash and pointing at him. Two could play that game. "Point that wand at me and I'll curse you before you can say _petrificus. _I'll tell them that you were nearly caught by Filch, but I won't say anything about the Forbidden Corridor. Try to stay out of trouble from now on, will you."

Putting her wand away, Roisin stalked out of the room and over to the Slytherin table, sitting in between Desdemona and Pansy. Sitting across from her, Millicent raised an eyebrow. "Talking with your cousin? Did you get anything about what happened to them last night?"

Beside her, Draco leaned over eagerly. "Please tell me that they at least got caught by Filch?"

Ignoring him, Roisin addressed her answer to Millie. "They got to the trophy room and waited for about half an hour, but then Filch came sniffing around, so they made a run for it. Nothing drastic. Now will someone tell Draco that next time he cooks up some idiot plan, to make sure it only affects him, and not the rest of us?"

Never the sharpest tool in the potions lab, Goyle obediently relayed this to Draco while the others snickered. Roisin smiled, rolled her eyes, and stole the last pancake.

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_You spent this long reading, take a few more seconds to review my work. Yes, that means **you**! I checked my hit counter, so I know people are reading this.  
Give me an honest opinion, not just a 'good job'. Ideas, suggestions, what can be improved! Come on, everyone._

_Thanks to everyone,  
__Nat._


	8. The Halloween Fiasco

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

It took two days for Draco to stop sulking about Harry and Ron not getting caught and expelled.

The rest of the house, however, remained unanimously disinterested in what Draco though, either sick of listening to him complain, or embarrassed at his plots obvious failure to succeed.

Observation of Harry and Ron, to make sure that they didn't try anything else stupid, hinted that they were not the only ones involved, as Neville Longbottom no longer seemed to want to be anywhere near them, and the resident know-it-all of their year, Hermione Granger, seemed even more annoyed at them than usual.

Roisin had written to Fionna about what she knew of the incident, as it was easier to rant in a letter than to do so in public and be caught.

Fionna had written back with reassurances and a warning to be careful, as there was obviously a lot more going on than met the eye. The letter ended on a lighter note, however, asking how classes were, and if Roisin had received permission to visit her grandmother during the upcoming Christmas holiday.

Roisin was still sorting through ideas for the one most likely to succeed, but intended to put it into motion within the next week or so. It had been somewhat difficult with Desdemona leaning over her shoulder and offering less than helpful suggestions the entire time.

While Desdemona might be able to pull the 'If I'm Causing Havoc Somewhere Else, I'm Not Causing Havoc Here' card, but even 'Magic' wouldn't be able to convince her parents that their previously calm and obedient daughter had turned into a hellion in less than three months. Besides, even if that was the case, they probably wouldn't care whether Roisin was causing chaos at Hogwarts or at her Grandmothers.

* * *

A week after the broomstick incident and near-duel, the Slytherin first years came down to breakfast with a cheerful attitude.

One of the older students had finally become fed up with Draco muttering darkly and sulking, and threatened to hex him soundly if he didn't stop it. It was a Seventh-Year studying for an important test, so no-one blamed them, really. Apparently NEWT year was nothing but a long series of tests, practice exams, and mountains of homework.

Realizing that pushing the issue would be a Bad Idea, Draco had obeyed, leaving a much lighter atmosphere and a hopeful outlook for the coming days.

Sadly, this atmosphere went downhill as the owl post arrived halfway through breakfast.

Roisin was just opening the latest package from her grandmother (sweets and a soft woollen scarf, _'just in case. The winter gets very cold, dear'_) when six owls, carrying a long, slender package, flew toward the Gryffindor table, landing in front of Harry.

Draco was the first to notice this, as most of the first years had been pre-occupied with laughing at the Ravenclaw table, where two owls had collided with each other and fallen into the porridge bowl, splashing several students. He pointed it out just in time to see another owl swoop in and drop a letter on top of the package.

While he had stopped complaining about Harry and Ron Weasley, Draco was obviously still holding a grudge, as he insisted on going over to find out what it was and if it could be used to get Harry into trouble. None of the other first years particularly cared what was in the package, so they ignored Draco, Crabbe and Goyle as they stood and made a beeline for the Gryffindor table.

Looking up as they left (it was unusual to see Crabbe and Goyle leave the table before the dishes were emptied) Theo shook his head, commenting on how long it would take for Draco to return. Speculating with the other girls about what they could expect for Halloween at Hogwarts, Roisin paid no attention until Draco stormed back to the table, ranting about rules being broken for the famous and Harry receiving a broomstick.

And they were back to listening to Draco complain about Harry, again. It was really a bit hypocritical, since Draco had repeatedly tried to use the 'My Father...' line to try to make someone do something for him, even if it seldom worked. Roisin resolved to find out what was going on at the first opportunity, just so she could tell Draco to make him shut up.

* * *

Her chance came that night when she and Desdemona were combing the Great Hall in search of Desdemona's Charms book, which she had been glancing through at dinner and left behind.

Seeing Harry walk past on the way out of the castle, Roisin and Desdemona left off searching to follow him. The book wasn't going anywhere, if it was even in the Great Hall, and this was too interesting to pass up.

Luckily, Harry failed to notice them as he headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, where he promptly mounted the broom and kicked off, obviously enjoying his new broom.

The two girls were about to go back inside when they had to dive behind the Ravenclaw Stands to avoid being seen by an older boy that one of the Slytherin Prefects had named as Oliver Wood, the fanatical Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Well, now, wasn't this interesting?

The Charms Book forgotten, they watched as Wood explained the basics of Quidditch and showed Harry the balls and equipment used. After a quick run-through, Wood started throwing golf balls for Harry to catch in mid-air.

Watching them, Roisin frowned. Wood was obviously training Harry to be a seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, which she thought was rather unfair.

Roisin was hardly above breaking the rules herself, on occasion, but not a school-wide one like this. The Hogwarts acceptance letter had clearly stated that First Years were not allowed to bring broomsticks, and Dumbledore had clearly stated that playing on the team was strictly for Second years and over.

If that was what Draco had been complaining about, maybe he had a point, for once. Harry was a good flyer, from what Roisin had seen so far in their one flying lesson, and the Gryffindor Team was something of a laughing stock as far as Seekers went, but that didn't mean that they should be allowed to break the rules like that.

Scrambling deeper into the shadows as Harry and Wood started to head back inside, Roisin and Desdemona exchanged looks before following them back to the castle, just making it before the doors shut them out.

They decided to retrieve Desdemona's book the next morning, and headed straight for the Slytherin Dungeons. The rest of the house would love to know about this!

* * *

The rest of the House did, in fact, want to know about this, even if it did provoke a screaming fit from the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint.

While the other students had less extreme reactions, they also agreed that it was unfair, and all six prefects promised that they would see Professor Snape first thing in the morning to complain about it.

It was starting to get late, however, and the first years were ordered off to bed when Millicent began to doze on Theo's shoulder.

Eager to get away from Flint, who was still ranting, the first years obeyed, going to their dorm rooms and falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Before Roisin knew it, she was reaching the two month mark of her Hogwarts attendance. Hogwarts was already starting to feel more like home than Privet Drive, probably because of the differing atmospheres, and the lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics, even if they were slightly harder.

November was coming up in a matter of days, and on Halloween morning, she woke to the smell of pumpkin drifting through the halls in preparation for the Halloween feast, which would take place that night.

They laughed quietly at Professor McGonagall's expression when she found the Transfiguration classroom filled with bats and mashed pumpkin, when they had it as a double period first thing in the morning, and the teacher muttered something dark about the Weasley Twins, who were apparently pranksters and getting into the 'Trick or Treat' spirit early.

Defence was focused on something interesting for once, with Quirrel talking about the Muggle beliefs concerning Halloween and their basis in fact. This included a brief overview of the original celebration of Samhain and how it eventually changed into Halloween.

Better still, in Charms, the last class of the day; Professor Flitwick announced that they would be learning how to make things float. Despite sharing this class with Gryffindor, all of the first years were very excited to be learning this, which they had been dying to start ever since the tiny professor had made Neville Longbottom's toad zoom around the classroom in the first lesson.

They were given a lecture on the proper wand movement and incantation, and then split up into pairs to practice on feathers. Desdemona had been paired with Theo that lesson, leaving Roisin with Blaise.

Everyone was eager to start, but it was a lot more difficult than it looked. All the students were practising hard, but were met with varying degrees of success. A few students were having no success at all, and a Gryffindor that Roisin thought was named Seamus Finnigan managed to set his feather on fire, much to the amusement of everyone else.

Despite being paired with Hermione Granger, admittedly one of the brainiest students in the year, Ron Weasley was among those who were having little success.

Focusing on getting her feather to move more than a few centimetres, Roisin was forced to duck as he waved his long arms like windmills, voicing the words for the spell a lot louder than Roisin thought was strictly necessary.

Luckily, Hermione Granger intervened before Blaise could do more than mutter something decidedly uncomplimentary about the red-head. Roisin paused in her own attempts at the spell to watch Hermione as Blaise leaned down to whisper in her ear. "What are you doing? You're meant to be practicing, not watching the Granger muggle-born."

Not taking her eyes off Hermione, Roisin whispered back. "She's also one of the smartest in our year. She usually gets things right in the first lesson, so I'm watching how she does it."

Much to Weasley's obvious disgust and Professor Flitwick's obvious delight, Hermione managed to make her feather rise and float about four feet above the desk. Blaise pulled a face at Roisin, but copied her anyway, and soon their feathers were making their tentative way into the air as well.

* * *

The corridors were very crowded when they left the class, with every student in the castle rushing to put their books and such away before going to the feast. Pushing their way through the crowd, the Slytherins were surprised to see Hermione Granger shove her way past them in tears.

Roisin felt sorry for the girl, but ultimately decided that it was none of her business and any interference would probably be unwelcome. Instead, she put it out of mind as she headed down to the Dungeons, and then the Great Hall for the feast with the others, all anticipating something spectacular.

They were not disappointed. The hall was filled with thousands of live bats, which swooped over the tables in large dark clouds, making the candles flicker and enticing a few shrieks when they got too close to a student.

Then the feast appeared on the golden platters, as it had at the Welcoming Feast. Seeing one of the jumpier students at the Ravenclaw table, Theo grabbed a bat that had wandered within reach and threw it at the back of their head, resulting in a piercing shriek.

Roisin joined in the laughter as she reached for the peas, only to drop the spoon when Quirrel burst into the Hall, shrieking about a Troll in the Dungeons, and then collapsed in a dead faint.

The hall erupted into chaos as everyone, students and teachers alike, started panicking. It took several loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand to restore even a semblance of order. "Prefects, take your Houses back to the Common Rooms immediately. Teachers, come with me."

Most of Slytherin exchanged horrified looks. Their Common Room was in the Dungeon, exactly where the troll was rumoured to be! What was Dumbledore thinking? One of the prefects tried to point this out, but received an icy look from the remaining Professors and an order to do as they were told.

A second year burst into tears of fright and several others didn't look far from doing the same themselves. Demetera, the female fifth year prefect, managed to calm her down while the seventh year prefects restored order. "It's all right, everyone. Calm down and stay together, we will go to the library until the teachers get rid of the Troll. If any of the teachers have an issue with that, they can take it up with us and Professor Snape."

Relieved that someone had come up with a workable idea that wasn't likely to result in death or injury, the Slytherins started off. Lingering near the back of the group, they were just reaching a three-way point in the corridor when Roisin froze.

Hermione had not shown up at the feast and therefore didn't know about the troll! Roisin was likely to receive all kinds of hell for it, but someone had to warn her!

Making sure that the Prefect nearest to her was looking the other way, Roisin slipped off to the third-floor girl's bathroom, where Hermione was supposedly hiding.

* * *

Dodging a few other small groups of students, Roisin had just reached the third floor when she crashed into Ron and Harry. Ron looked like he was about to demand what she was doing here, but Harry motioned for both of them to be quiet as a truly foul smell hit them and the Troll came into sight. Clapping a hand over her mouth to silence a gasp, Roisin and the two boys hid as the Troll went past.

It turned into a room off the hall, and the three of them snuck up behind it, locking it in. Roisin was just about to keep looking for the Girl's Bathroom, when she saw the sign above the door that they had just locked, and turned white, just as they heard a scream from inside the room.

Exchanging horrified looks, they smashed the door open to see the Troll towering over Hermione, who was trapped against the wall, looking ready to faint.

Harry grabbed a tap that the Troll had apparently smashed off the wall and threw it at the Troll, gaining its attention. "Distract it!"

Roisin threw a stinging hex that Opal, a fourth year, had taught her a few days before. The Troll roared and started lumbering toward her as Ron yelled at it and threw a metal pipe. It turned away from Roisin, giving her and Harry a chance to duck behind and grab Hermione, trying to drag her out. She seemed too scared to move.

Harry's attention was drawn back to Ron, who was cornered with nowhere to go. Wondering just what her cousin hoped to accomplish by jumping on the Troll's back and sticking his wand up it's nose, Roisin pointed her wand at Hermione, practically snarling. "Pull yourself together and move it! Before I leave you to the Troll!"

This seemed to get through to the terrified girl, who finally started to move, skirting their way around the fight against the troll. They had made it half way to the door when Ron managed to knock the Troll out with it's own club, making Roisin offer a prayer of thanks to whatever higher power might be listening, that they had learned the levitation charm.

Her prayer froze mid-thought, however, at the sight of Professors McGonagall, Quirrel and Snape standing in the doorway, obviously drawn by the noise. Roisin was trying to think of a way to explain this that wouldn't result in detention for the rest of her natural life, when she heard Hermione speak up, taking the blame and blatantly _lying_ to a teacher! If this wasn't the wizarding world, and thus somewhat probable, Roisin would be looking around for a flying pig.

As Professor McGonagall spluttered in shock at Hermione's explanation, Professor Snape smoothly cut in. "I will leave you to deal with your students, Minerva. Miss O'Conner, come with me."

Roisin winced, but followed her Head of House. A few corridors out of sight, the Professor stopped, turning to face her. "What did you think you were doing, Miss O'Conner? You were supposed to be in the Common Room with the rest of Slytherin House."

Roisin looked at the floor, not wanting to see the disappointment in her teacher's eyes. "Professor Quirrel said that the Troll was in the dungeons, so the Prefects led us to the library. We were on our way there when I remembered that Hermione Granger hadn't turned up for the Feast, and some of the other students said that she was in the bathroom crying, which meant that she wouldn't have heard about the Troll. She may be a Gryffindor, but I didn't want her to be killed."

Professor Snape's voice was neutral, but at least it wasn't deadly soft or shouting. "May I ask why you didn't tell a prefect or a teacher? Or why you didn't let her own Housemates deal with it? You could have been killed just as easily as the girl."

In hindsight, that did seem like the obvious solution. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think, and the teachers were all looking for the Troll. I just thought I had to at least warn Hermione, because she isn't very popular in her own House, and I didn't know if any of them would bother."

Professor Snape let out a long breath. "I don't approve of your rash actions this evening, but I admit that you had good intentions. Twenty points to Slytherin. Now let us collect the rest of the House. I believe that we are finishing the Feast in our Common Rooms, and doubtless your friends will want to know what is going on."

Breathing a sigh of relief that she had got off fairly lightly, Roisin followed the Professor, slipping into the shadows as the rest of the House came out of the library and joining her friends near the centre.

* * *

Back in the Slytherin Dungeons, the remainder of the Halloween feast was somewhat subdued, as everyone was still somewhat shaken up by the Troll fiasco.

This did not, however, stop them from grabbing Roisin before she made it to the Girl's Dorms, and demanding to know what had happened when she disappeared.

Given little choice but to answer, Roisin stuck with a brief overview of the events, dodging around her reasons for trying to warn Hermione in the first place. She had already received a thorough and eloquent lecture from the Slytherin Prefects, and was in no mood to elaborate on the night's events. Her housemates could fill the blanks in for themselves, which would make it a lot easier on her all around. Roisin had barely been at Hogwarts for two months, far too short a time to make an enemy of her more extremist Housemates, who would be horrified at the very idea of risking her life to save a 'Mudblood'.

Thankfully, no one pressed the issue, and conversation turned to how the Troll got into the castle in the first place. Desdemona leaned against Theo, who promptly took on a deer-in-headlights expression. "Someone must have let it in, I think. By itself, a Troll wouldn't be smart enough to even unlock the doors, and I overheard Filch say that there were no signs of anything being smashed or broken on the way in."

Pansy scowled. "If someone did let it in, I hope I find out who. There are several things that I would like to do to them."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I'll say. If my father found out who was responsible for this, there would be hell to pay."

An eavesdropping Fifth Year made a derisive sound. "Forget Hell. You've never seen my mum angry. She makes a Chinese Fireball look tame."

Roisin couldn't help but wince at the comparison. While the most tolerant of its own species, the Fireball was one of the most dangerous dragon breeds, ranking just under the Hungarian Horntail. "I don't even want to think about how my grandmother will react. I don't really even want to think about the Troll. I just want to go to sleep and forget about it."

Seizing the chance to get away from Desdemona, Theo agreed. "Me, too. So at the risk of being rude, we will just be on our way."

The adrenaline of the evening's events had worn everyone out, and more than one of their Housemates followed the First Year's example. Safely tucked into bed, Roisin drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

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_Thoughts and suggestions are welcome, and Thanks go to __**Mystic Archer Horse**__ for her well rounded comments.  
__Thanks everyone,_

_Nat_


	9. Quidditch, Curses and Questions

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

November made its presence known with a vengeance, turning the weather cold enough that the grounds had to be defrosted every morning, or at least have a clearly-marked path melted to the Greenhouses and the Gates, and prompting the Slytherin First Years to rush for their prefects and Professor Snape, desperate to learn warming charms.

This had done wonders for them in Potions, as Professor Snape refused to move classrooms, and the dungeons were easily the coldest part of the castle. It became routine to apply one or two warming charms before Potions class, then sit back and watch the Gryffindors shiver over their cauldrons.

Roisin had finally hit on a plan to gain her parent's permission to visit her Grandmother over the holidays. Deciding that simplicity was the way to go, she had left Desdemona laughing and sat down to write them a note.

The note said that she was happy to be visiting Privet Drive over the holidays and that she had received offers to stay at Hogwarts or visit others, naturally, but she didn't think that they would agree, and besides she needed permission from her parents to visit somewhere else, and that she couldn't wait to show them all the amazing things that she had learned.

Borrowing Harry's owl to send the letter, Roisin wondered if she hadn't laid it on a bit thick. But it wasn't quite a lie. Roisin would have loved to show her family all the new things she had learned, but she was intelligent enough to realize that it would end badly, and probably with a lot of screaming.

The degree of exaggeration hadn't mattered, however, when she had received a reply at breakfast, stating that she should use the chance to get to know her friends better, and that it would be a marvellous idea to go and visit any one of them.

Reading the note aloud had sent most of the First Years into gales of laughter. Roisin, raised on the idea that Chrismas was a time for family, managed a forced smile and a giggle. Well, her Grandmother's family were her family too, she supposed.

* * *

In other news, the Quidditch season had started, with just as much fanaticism as the football or soccer seasons back in the Muggle world.

By all accounts, Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, had narrowed his world down to two things: Rant about Gryffindor's new Seeker, while adjusting tactics to accommodate for Harry's actual competence, and drill the Slytherin Quidditch team mercilessly in preparation for the upcoming match against Gryffindor.

Harry was supposed to have been Gryffindor's secret weapon, but word had leaked out, as it always did, and Gryffindor was supporting their team by being louder and more boisterous than ever. Roisin gave it a few more days before people started throwing hexes.

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff weren't _quite_ as bad, but still made their support in a very public manner.

Slytherin supported their team in a quieter, but more sensible, way. They helped the team members with schoolwork, as Flint was leaving almost no time outside of practice, and made sure that there was always someone around with a hot drink and warming charms when the team returned, shivering, from training.

It was certainly more practical than cheering and flocking around the House team when they wanted nothing more than to warm up, finish their schoolwork and go to bed.

* * *

The morning of the first Quidditch match dawned very bright and very cold. More than one of the Slytherin Team bore faintly martyred expressions when Flint informed them that they would not be wearing anything that may slow them down in the air, and would thus be playing without scarves or extra layers.

Looking over at the Gryffindor table, Roisin felt a faint stab of sympathy at her cousin's green face, while his friends tried to make him eat something. Whatever they were saying didn't seem to help, as Harry now looked ready to throw up.

Roisin's attention was drawn back to the Slytherin table when Pansy passed her the porridge tureen. Adding milk, honey and a touch of cinnamon, Roisin started eating. There was no reason for her to starve from worry, after all, and if something did happen, she would be of no use if she had fainted from hunger.

At ten thirty, the Quidditch team headed out for the lockers and everyone else rushed back to the Common Room for cloaks and scarves. Trying to get far enough in Adrian Pucey's (one of the chasers) good books to convince him to teach them a few of the more advanced defense material, the First Years brought along warm clothing for the Quidditch team, who were likely to be freezing after flying at high speeds and great altitude.

At eleven, they were all in the Quidditch stands, along with most of the rest of the school, armed with banners, flags and loud cheering voices.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and the players were off!

A Gryffindor boy, Lee Jordan, was commentating with heavy bias, despite being sternly watched by Professor McGonagall. Tuning him out, as he obviously wasn't going to say anything positive about Slytherin, however they played, Roisin focused on what was going on in the game.

Harry was circling far above the other players (a wise move, considering the violence from both sides) as the Quaffle was passed, intercepted and dropped, moving from player to player. Flint nearly scored, but was stopped by an impressive save from Gryffindor Keeper Wood. Gryffindor took the Quaffle and scored the first goal of the match. The Gryffindor stands exploded with cheers. Roisin caught a glimpse of Hagrid, the man who had given her and Harry their letters, sitting with them.

The Fifth Year Slytherin boy prefect, Tiberius, scowled and muttered something rude. Selena, his counterpart, smirked. "Well they do have reason to cheer. The team hasn't won more than a few matches for over seven years now; it stands to reason that they'll be excited."

Slytherin was back in possession, and Adrian Pucey was speeding toward the Gryffindor goalposts when a flash of gold shot past his ear, making him drop the Quaffle as Jordan shouted to potential appearance of the Golden Snitch. Both seekers raced after it and Harry was just pulling ahead when WHAM! Flint had been speeding past with the Quaffle, after scoring when everyone was distracted by the seekers chasing the snitch, and blocked Harry, who had to jerk out of the way to avoid him, giving the snitch time to disappear again.

Madam Hooch ordered a free shot for Gryffindor, bringing the score even again, and the game resumed. Montague had just stolen the Quaffle from Katie Bell when Roisin looked back at Harry for a moment and saw him zigzagging strangely through the other players. That was odd, as only a few seconds before he had been flying high again, and if he had seen the snitch, he would have been flying a lot faster.

Flint was hit hard in the face by a bludger, but still managed to score, bringing the score up to twenty to ten, Gryffindor's way, when Harry's broom gave a sudden lurch and seemed to try and buck him off.

The Slytherins were cheering and no one seemed to have notice until Harry's broom started carrying him higher and higher, jerking around as it went, then spinning into a series of rolls until Harry was thrown off, hanging on by one hand.

Houses aside, Roisin turned white with fear for her cousin's safety as the Gryffindor team tried to reach him, without success. Every time they tried to catch up and reach him, the broom only went higher. Flint took the opportunity to score five times without being noticed.

Flint scored twice more as the Gryffindor players finally resorted to flying lower, hoping to catch him when he fell. Wood noticed the score; (ninety points to twenty) paled, and went back to guarding the hoops. He was still slightly distracted, however, and the Slytherin Chasers were merciless as Harry's broom stopped acting up and he managed to climb back on, before going into a steep dive.

The Slytherin chasers had scored three more times and went for a fourth when Harry suddenly clapped his hand over his mouth as if he was going to be sick. He hit the ground on all fours as Slytherin made one more goal, coughed, and spat something small and golden into his hand. It was the snitch, and the game ended in total confusion.

* * *

The First Years didn't wait around to hear the official announcement of the scores (Gryffindor wins one hundred and seventy to one hundred and forty) and rushed down to where the Slytherin Team stood, with Flint howling about how swallowing the snitch shouldn't count as catching it.

Leaving her year mates to hand out warmer clothing, Roisin rushed off to where the Gryffindors waited, just in time to see him being led off to Hagrid's hut, accompanied by Weasley and Granger. Frantic to see if Harry was all right, Roisin followed.

She arrived at the hut and burst in without knocking. (She would apologize later) Harry was holding a strong cup of tea the size of a kettle, and talking with the others. Roisin entered just in time to hear Weasley saying "…cursing your broomstick, muttering, wouldn't take his eyes off you."

Roisin ignored that and ran over to where Harry sat, giving him just enough time to put his tea down before launching herself forward and wrapping her arms around him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him exchange a frantic look with Weasley just as Hagrid spoke, obviously refuting Weasly's statement. Roisin mentally rolled her eyes. Harry had no problems with diving to the ground at break-neck speeds, but panicked when she hugged him. Boys were ridiculous.

Awkwardly patting Roisin's back, Harry looked up at Hagrid. "I found out something about him. He was trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween."

Hagrid stared at them. "How'd you know about Fluffy?"

This produced a number of reactions:

Harry and Weasly gaped at him. "_Fluffy_?"  
Hermione looked just as shocked. "That _thing_ has a _name_?"  
Roisin jumped to her feet. "Three-headed dog? You never said anything about that! You just said that you found out why it was forbidden!"

The boys had the grace to look faintly sheepish. Harry was obviously thinking of a somewhat tactful way to reply when Weasley opened his mouth. "Well, you're a Slytherin. It's not like that house is known for being trustworthy."

Jumping to her feet, Roisin glared at the red-haired boy. "Well, Gryffindor is certainly living up to its expectations of biased hot-heads! You know what, never mind. Next time I see my cousin in some life-threatening situation, I'll sit back and ignore whether or not he's still in one piece!"

* * *

She stormed out of Hagrid's hut and back to the Slytherin Common Room, fuming. Bloody Weasley! Where did he get off making those kinds of judgements? He'd been at Hogwarts for only as long as she had, and all of his family were in Gryffindor, so their opinions were probably biased as well!

Snapping the password _Slytherin Forever_ (An excitable third-year had been passing by with his friends when the prefects were about to set the week's password, and they couldn't change it again until Monday.) Roisin stalked over to where her friends sat, waiting for her. Seeing the look on her face, they decided not to ask. Draco leaned back in his chair as Desdemona and Pansy shifted to make room. "So, is Flint still complaining about the match."

She had barely finished speaking when the hubbub of the Common Room was broken by a loud _"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!"_ from where the Quidditch team sat, the other six reviewing their performance and listening to Flint rant in changing volumes with one ear. "That answers my question, I suppose."

Millicent didn't bother hiding her amusement at the dry tone. "It could have been worse, though. I mean, it was a pretty small margin, and it gives us a leg up on points."

Putting Hagrid's hut out of her mind, Roisin smiled and looked back at the Quidditch team. Flint had finally caught on that his team was ignoring the rant and was branching out to complain to anyone within hearing range. Seeing him heading toward the first years, Roisin hastily stood up. "And before Flint gets here, can anyone help me with my Charms essay? I'm stuck on the last three inches."

Not wanting to be caught and forced to listen to Flint ranting about Quidditch, Gryffindors and how it didn't count as a catch, the other first years quickly volunteered and hurried up to the girl's dorms. Thankfully, Gender Alarms weren't added until Third Year, so the only problem was the lack of space when crowding nine people into a four person room. Theo started to lean back onto Millicent's bed. Millicent kicked him off. Helping Theo up as the other boys quickly moved away from the beds, Blaise sent Roisin a curious glance. "Out of curiosity for the next match, is Potter all right? Any idea what had the broom acting like that?"

Roisin shrugged. "Weasley was saying something about someone cursing Harry's broom, and they were telling Hagrid that someone was trying to sneak into the forbidden corridor at Halloween, hence the Troll. I didn't hear any names, though. They also mentioned a Cerberus by the name of Fluffy." She let out a huff of annoyance, "Then Weasley started going on about un-trustworthy Slytherins and I left. Bloody prat."

Desdemona pulled a face. "Gryffindors are all like that. They look at a stereotype and decide that it's the golden rule. Slytherin's are _selective_ about who they trust or give loyalty to, but that doesn't make us any less trustworthy."

To everyone's surprise, it was Draco who put a reassuring hand on her arm. "Blood is important, though, and so is family. I hate Potter, personally, but don't give up on him because of his friends."

This earned him several surprised looks. Pansy smiled at him. "Draco, that was almost profound. This coming from the Pure-blood prince?"

A faint tinge of pink appeared on Draco's cheeks, and he quickly stood up. "Shut up, Pansy. I'm going downstairs to see if Flint has calmed down yet. The rest of you had better get moving before a Prefect finds us."

Roisin smiled faintly. "Thanks, Draco. Now I really do need to get to work on my Charms assignment."

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_Yes, I played around with the Quidditch match and scores. Really though, do you honestly think that the Slytherins would stop trying to score after five goals? Or for Wood to stop being a Quidditch fanatic long enough not to notice when the score started to creep up? "Get the snitch or die trying", anyone?_

_Review and give me an opinion or suggestions on what to do next. Next up, Christmas Holidays!_

_Thanks, Nathalia_


	10. Christmas Celebrations

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family.  
A/N: My own Grandmother is Irish and I'm taking my knowledge of celebrations from her stories and some of my own research. No offence is meant to anyone of Irish Birth, and I apologise in advance for any offence taken. _

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Term had ended and the Winter holidays had arrived.

Harry was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas (Roisin didn't blame him) along with the Weasly children and a few others, but most of the student population was happily anticipating returning home for three weeks.

Holidays and various celebrations were coming up, trunks were packed, the halls of Hogwarts resonated with carols, along with some very rude alternate lyrics from Peeves (the Prefects had flatly refused to explain what '_Glory streams from Heaven great/Heavenly Hosts forniticate'_ was supposed to mean, and Professor Snape had turned a very interesting shade of purple before yelling for the Bloody Baron) and it was in a similar spirit that the students prepared to board the Hogwarts Express.

As few of the older families celebrated Christmas, many having at least one ancestor who suffered a burning or some of the less tolerant aspects of Christianity, the Slytherins rarely exchanged more than simple tokens as Midwinter gifts, usually before leaving Hogwarts.

For Roisin, whose parents had always gone with extravagant and expensive as the theme for presents, this was a large change, if a welcome one, as there was no way she would be able to fit her usual Christmas load into her dormitory, much less her school trunk.

With this in mind, Roisin had chosen her gifts carefully. Harry had grown up virtually without sweets, and as good as wizarding candy was, Harry had a weakness for Mars Bars. This in mind, Roisin had ordered a sweet assortment from one of Dublin's main sweet shops, thrown in several king-sized mars bars, and wrapped it up as his Christmas gift. His gift would not be received until December 25th, but still.

The other gifts were simple, but well though out, such as books on a topic of interest, or sweets, or a subscription to Witch Weekly that Pansy had been (loudly) wishing for. It was an unspoken agreement not to let Desdemona near sugar or caffeine if at all possible, but Roisin hoped that she liked her gift of _Unusual but Useful Charms That No-one Else Thinks Of. _Blaise received a set of Gobstones, as his parents considered a waste of time, but they really couldn't expect him to throw away a gift.

Although nothing like what she would have received at Privet Drive, Roisin would never deny loving her gifts. Draco had given her a book on Magical customs and etiquette, claiming that if she was going to be seen with him, Roisin would need to know how to behave. Pansy had hit the blond and told him to stop being a prat.

Blaise had a cousin who did wooden carvings charmed to move, and had given one to each of his year-mates. Pansy, Millicent and Theo had joined forces to give everyone a voucher to their favourite shop. Now all Roisin had to do was actually convince someone to take her to Bookworm's Haven to use it.

Crabbe and Goyle had also pooled resources and gone with the theory of 'give as you would receive' (Draco wondered where they had learned the phrase. Roisin and Millicent hit him)

It was Desdemona's gift, however, that she loved the most. One of the third-years, Amanda Flynn, was very camera-happy, and Desdemona had nagged the poor girl into taking several discreet photos of their little group, copied them, and started a photo album for each.

* * *

It was Saturday, December 14th, and Fionna O'Conner-Dursley waited at Platform Nine and three-quarters, counting the minutes until the Hogwarts Express arrived with her Grand-daughter Roisin.

About a third of the way through November, Fionna had received a very important letter from her Grand-daughter.  
Fionna had sent several letters to her grandchild, Roisin, about visiting over the Midwinter Holidays and meeting the rest of the O'Conner clan. To do this, however, Roisin would need her parent's permission, and that presented a problem, as Vernon and Petunia Dursley hated and feared anything out of the ordinary, and had been decidedly chilly toward her ever since they had found out about Fionna's own magical heritage. Therefore, Roisin would have to be the one to get permission.

Fionna had long since resigned herself to the fact that laughing at her children and daughter-in-law was the only way to deal with them if she didn't want to burst into tears and wonder how she had failed so badly with them. With the shock of a new world and being away from home for the first time, perhaps Roisin was adopting a similar attitude. The letter that Roisin had just sent enclosed not only signed permission for Roisin to visit others over the holidays, but also a copy of the letter that had persuaded them.

After skimming the letter's contents and laughing, Fionna quickly located her second cousin, the current Head of the Clan, and showed him the letter. Fionna had managed to contain her amusement to some degree, Vernon being her son, after all. Michael O'Conner had no such reservations. After spending several minutes incoherent with mirth, he ordered that the keep be made ready for her arrival in December. Bringing a child into the clan was cause for celebration, after all, not to mention the Midwinter Celebration.

Then again, one did have to remember the old saying; '_No one can celebrate life like the Irish'_. The O'Conner Clan took this saying to heart, and celebrated whenever a reasonable opportunity presented itself.

"Reasonable Opportunity" could be anything from a good spring rain to a wedding, but the most important ones were occasions when someone was brought into the Clan, such as a birth or marriage, and the Solstice and Equinox celebrations. Like many of the older families, especially those who could trace back to the Witch Burnings, the O'Conner's ignored Christmas and Easter, and instead celebrated Wren Day on December 26, and the four Great Festivals of the year: Imbolc, Beltaine, Lughnasadh and Samhain.

Three of these four holidays would take place during the school terms, but the students usually held their own little celebrations or, if the holiday fell on a weekend, port keyed home for the celebration.

Fionna was shaken out of her thoughts when the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, and students started to pour out, running to meet their families. Looking around, Fionna spotted Roisin with a small knot of other First Years, waving goodbye as they separated.

Hugging her granddaughter, Fionna twisted the Claddagh ring on her fourth finger, a ring that never failed to make her feel a pang of grief for her husband, activating the charm that would bring them to the O'Conner Keep.

* * *

The O'Conner Keep, like many others, was actually a large stone Fortress, which served as a refuge in times of Danger and as home to the Ruling family. The rest of the Clan occupied the small village that surrounded the Keep, but it was hard to tell, with the amount of interaction.

People were constantly in and out, and it was impossible to tell who was a resident and who was just visiting. Roisin stayed close to her Grandmother as they walked through the halls to meet the current Head of the Clan.

Roisin didn't really know what she had been expecting, but she was fairly sure that it hadn't included a spacious study and a small group. Michael sat with his wife, Nessa, who had immediately pulled her into a hug and started on how it was wonderful to finally meet her.

Roisin was rescued by sixteen-year-old Aiden, Michael's oldest son, who grinned at her as he carefully extracted Roisin from his mother's arms. The rest of the immediate ruling family was the ten-year-old twins Seamus and Mary, who would be attending Hogwarts next year and could barely wait to start asking questions, and six-year-old Erin, who shyly asked Roisin to help her look for a faery fort at some point during the holiday.

After the initial introductions, Mary and Seamus immediately volunteered to show Roisin to the guest room where she would be staying until she and Fionna could work out a more permanent lodging for the future. The muttering about never having to go back to 'those idiot muggles' did not go un-noticed. Roisin foresaw extreme mothering in the near future. Maybe it would even surpass the fussing that Petunia used to do.

Roisin started to regret her acceptance of the twin's help about halfway to the guest wing, and wished she had paid more attention to the sympathetic look Aiden had been giving her. Roisin was sure that she had never had this much energy when she was their age, and knew for a fact that the last time she had asked so many questions was when she had discovered the existence of magic.

What House was she in at Hogwarts? How were you sorted? Where did everyone sleep? What were classes like? Did she have any favourites? What was the castle like? Did they have any activities other than Quidditch?

Roisin mentally added another question: Did these two ever stop talking? Even saying that she needed to unpack didn't get rid of them. Mary opened her trunk, Seamus started taking her non-school clothing out, and they continued asking questions. She nearly cried with relief when Nessa came and shooed them off to get ready for the feast that night.

Fionna had told her about the feast to welcome her into the Clan (and welcome Fionna back to the Keep, which she had often avoided thanks to the memory of how they had been so reluctant to accept Frank), but Roisin still wasn't quite prepared for the celebration in their honour, or the loud cheering when they walked in the door.

It was easily on par with the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast, if not bigger. It was also a lot louder and more raucous, probably to do with a wider age variety, and the presence of alcoholic beverages.

She was originally seated at the head table, but when the music started, everyone abandoned the seating plan to join up with their friends. Roisin was dragged into a group of children around her age, talking and laughing and daring each other to ask someone else to dance.

* * *

On December 26th they celebrated Wren Day, where the boys chased down a wren until they caught it or the bird died of exhaustion. The wren was paraded through the streets with the boys singing and asking for donations and handing out feathers for good luck.

The donations were used to hold a dance that night with the wren sitting on top of a pole decorated with ribbons, flowers and wreaths. It was nearly as much fun as the feast the first night that Roisin had arrived.

The rest of the holidays consisted of getting to know her extended family, especially her wealth of cousins, forming friendships and participating in whatever said friends could think of to pass the time.

Fionna was of the opinion that everyone should know how to ride, and there was no shortage of horses to learn on. Roisin had taken riding lessons when she was younger, when Petunia had thought that she needed a hobby and Roisin had baulked at ballet lessons, not having the patience or co-ordination to really do well. The riding lessons had lasted until the horses were unable to move faster than a walk while carrying Dudley, and often had to be left in the paddock for the rest of the day when the lesson was finished.

After hearing this via eavesdropping, her older cousins and their friends took it upon themselves to take her riding with them on a regular basis. She could also go with younger friends as long as she had an adult accompanying them.

They could also watch the older children practice fighting or duelling. Roisin found the staff-fighting to be quite fascinating, and immediately started watching whenever possible, plotting a response for the next time Dudley tried to hit her with his Smeltings Stick.

A few days after arriving, Roisin had located the extensive library and happily spent hours there, reading her way through the seemingly limitless volumes. Of course, she was usually interrupted about an hour or so in by someone who thought she needed to spend more time in the sun.

Erin and the younger children were always looking for a 'big' person willing to play with them, which was an adventure in and of itself, and if all else failed; she could resort to finding new and different ways to hide from Seamus and Mary when they were in an inquisitive mood.

Her friends from Hogwarts also owled her on a frequent basis, asking about how her holidays were going. Draco wrote about the Yule parties and other functions he attended with his family and complained about being forced to mingle with the 'lower class' children while his father talked business with their parents. Pansy and Desdemona asked how she was and if there were any cute boys there, said that they were having fun at home and complained about being forced to listen to Draco complain.

Crabbe and Goyle had little to say, as usual, and their letters rarely consisted of more than: '_We are having fun, what about you?'._ It was the thought that counted, however.  
Blaise had been dragged off to visit his paternal relatives in Italy, but still had a lot of interesting things to talk about. He said that it was annoying that his aunts, uncles and various cousins were constantly going on about his mother's questionable judgement in marrying an English wizard, but amusing to watch the reaction when his parents and grand-parents overheard. His mother researched spells for the Ministry of Magic, and his father, before his death, had apparently had no qualms about testing them out on his siblings. His current father was not quite the same, but still wouldn't tolerate rudeness toward his wife and step-son.

Theo and Millicent's holidays were very quiet by comparison, spent at home with parents and immediate family, with the occasional outing. The most notable thing that had occurred with them was the occasional spell gone wrong at Theo's house and Millicent's cousin tripping over the rug and accidentally setting the tree on fire as they were starting to add the candle decorations.

* * *

All too soon, the holidays were over, and Roisin found herself packing her trunk (again with help from the twins, who had come up with more last-minute questions.) and saying goodbye to everyone before port keying back to England and spending the night in London before boarding the Hogwarts Express back to school.

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A/N:_ Put it this way: if you're young enough for me to have to explain what 'fornicate' means, you're too young for me to explain it.  
In other news, I am so, so sorry about the lack of updates lately. Unfortunately, my teachers decided that the end of term was a wonderful time to spring any number of last minute tests and assignments. My Support Physical Development teacher gave us a test that counts for thirty percent of our overall grade on the last day of term. Sadist._

_Anyway, I've been swamped with schoolwork, with two more assignments due on the first day back, but I should have more time for writing. I also added a few one-shots. Go look them up._

_I have 98 hits for the last chapter alone and only 2 reviews. So, as always, Review and tell me what you think. _

_Thanks,  
Nathalia._


	11. Dragons and Impending Exam Doom

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

The train-ride back to Hogwarts was rather boring, and consisted mainly of repeating the events of the holidays that they had already written each other about, keeping Desdemona sitting in one spot, and mentally cursing whoever had given her the sugar laced coffee that she had been drinking when they had arrived on the platform.

They went from the station to the castle in horseless carriages this time, and there was no feast to welcome everyone back. There was a rather loud shriek from the Gryffindor table, drawing everyone's attention to where Hermione Granger was scolding Harry and Ron Weasley about something. (Millicent, who had been closer, mentioned hearing what sounded like: "If you were caught!") Roisin tried to feel sympathetic for her cousin's plight, but eventually gave up in the face of amusement.

Term started the next day, and it was back to studying. Potions was as fun as ever, although it probably would have been even more enjoyable if Neville Longbottom didn't manage to ruin a potion or blow something up every few lessons.

Also, Quidditch practice had started again. Furious at the defeat by Gryffindor, Flint had turned into an absolute madman as far as Quidditch was concerned. He had gone to Madam Hooch the instant term had started and booked every time slot she would let him have. The first years were convinced that the only reason the Slytherin team wasn't training every second out of class was that Gryffindor Captain Wood was apparently on the same wavelength as Flint about the upcoming Gryffindor/ Hufflepuff match and booked nearly as many practices as Flint had.

It was enough to make even Draco start to re-consider trying out for Quidditch next term. Roisin just felt sorry for Harry. Constant pouring rain had replaced the snow, and neither captain seemed to understand that not everyone was as fanatic about Quidditch as they were, and that the School Nurse was running out of Pepper-up potions.

* * *

Roisin had never been very interested in sports, and as Slytherin wasn't playing that match, saw no real reason to watch. She was sure to get a minutely detailed account from at least one of her housemates anyway, so why waste time? She had a book to finish and a mail order to Bookworm's Haven to send. Paying little attention to the few others who also followed her train of thought, Roisin selected a large chair near the fireplace and curled up with her book.

Roisin had just closed _Deltora Quest: the Lake of Tears_ when the rest of the house returned. Turning around to greet her year mates, Roisin nearly dropped her book at the magnificent black eye that Draco had gained at some point since she saw him last. She was about to ask what had happened when Pansy caught her eye with a _Please-Gods-Don't-Mention-It_ look, and Blaise mouthed 'I'll explain later."

Roisin settled for a sympathetic expression and asked how the game had gone. This earned a large amount of dark muttering, until Blaise rolled his eyes and took her aside to explain.

It seemed that Snape had somehow been chosen to referee the game (how this had happened, no-one had any idea) but Gryffindor had still managed to win in less than ten minutes. This put Gryffindor in first place for the cup, and Slytherin in a towering bad mood.

Draco's black eye had been gained when he had been taunting Ron Weasley and the boy had snapped, punching him in the eye and starting a brawl. Crabbe and Goyle had joined in, which only made things even more chaotic.

Weasley had gained a possibly broken nose for his efforts, but the real surprise was that Neville Longbottom had somehow gained the courageous stupidity so common to Gryffindors, and joined in against Goyle and Crabbe. Predictably, he was still out cold in the hospital wing. Brave or not, they were still twice his size and much stronger, which meant that in a physical confrontation, they were almost certain to win.

* * *

February came, and the older magical families temporarily ignored House barriers to celebrate Imbolc.

The weather had finally cleared enough for a bonfire celebration, and a number of the older students told the younger ones to ignore the Divination Professor Trelawney, teaching them their own ways of the craft and of seeking omens.

Surprisingly enough, Professor McGonagall offered the use of the Staff Meeting Room for the hearth fire and the female practice of the Bridget Bed. Thanking her, the female students made their _brideog_s and brought sleeping bags to stay together overnight. They set up candles, and laid out clothing or strips of cloth for the goddess Brigit to bless for luck.

Roisin laid out a long scarf that she would cut in half the next day. With all the trouble Harry had been managing to get himself into so far, not to mention when they returned to Privet Drive at the end of the year, her cousin could use all the luck he could get!

In late February, however, came the build up to exams. Theo and Millicent, the more learning-oriented Slytherin First-Years, had started to drag the others into revision for the upcoming exams, whether they wanted to or not. Draco and Desdemona were decidedly in the 'NOT' category, but in a surprising twist, Crabbe and Goyle threw themselves into revising with unusual vigour. Probably they realized the necessity of good grades to get into Second Year, and were self-aware enough to realize that they needed all the help that they could get.

Sadly, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Theo and Millicent, and were piling on a mountain of revision and homework, meaning that although Roisin once again visited her grandmother for the Easter Holidays, where Fionna had taken up residence in a small house outside the immediate keep, as only the ruling family and their immediate kin lived in the Keep Proper, she spent most of it cooped up in the Keep library, working her way through all her schoolwork. Thankfully, the library had several resources that Hogwarts did not, leaving Roisin some amount of recreational time.

* * *

However bad the Slytherins were suffering, however, they took comfort in the fact that Gryffindor had it even worse. Hermione Granger was even worse than Millicent and Theo, and was hounding the other Gryffindors mercilessly about studying, as they had found out from Seamus Finnigan and Harry, who finally resorted to 'lowering' themselves to spend time with the notoriously anti-muggle-born Slytherins, just to get some peace and quiet.

Under the pretence of wanting to spend a bit of time with a fellow Irish (Seamus Finnigan) or cousin (Harry), the two boys had practically begged Roisin to hide them from their bookworm housemate, which the Slytherins had found very amusing.

It wasn't often that you found an eleven-year-old boy not only terrified of a girl smaller than both of them (the Hogwarts food, magical environment and regular exercise had sent Harry on a growth-spurt), but also willing to admit it.

* * *

March went by in a blur of studying, with a slight pause to celebrate Millicent and Roisin's birthday. Millicent's birthday was on March 13th, Roisin's on the 22nd. The first years split the difference and celebrated on March 17th. Pansy had given them both a charm bracelet, and Desdemona had bought them two charms each: a miniture book and a pair of clasped hands. The boys had banded together to buy Millicent a large bottle of the latest perfume, and Roisin a beautifully carved wooden music box that changed tunes with the owners mood. They took the evening off from studying and Crabbe and Goyle produced a birthday cake from the kitchens.

The next day it was back to studying, and Roisin's music box played a slow, mournful lament.

* * *

One day only a few weeks before exams, the Slytherins were just returning from Herbology when Draco came running up behind them, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. This in itself was worthy of attention, as Draco had always considered running to be beneath a Malfoy's dignity, except in very extreme cases, which this apparently was.

The news that Draco carried, however, was of even more note. According to Draco, Groundkeeper Hagrid had somehow acquired a dragon egg that was due to hatch that very day. This sparked all sorts of conversation, from disbelief to shock that such a thing could be allowed.

Pansy was convinced that there must be some mistake, and Theo backed her up, saying that there was no way the Groundskeeper possessed the brains or discretion needed to keep a dragon under wraps. Draco insisted that he knew what he heard, with Crabbe and Goyle as witnesses. Blaise and Millicent suggested that maybe the people Draco had overheard were wrong, because a dragon at Hogwarts would never be permitted. Desdemona thumped her head in resignation when Draco told them that he had overheard Harry, Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger talking about it, arguably the only people in Hogwarts close enough to Hagrid to actually know if it was true or not.

Fearing that the conversation was on the edge of turning into an all-out fight, Roisin suggested that they verify the facts by following Harry and Co. next time they visited Hagrid. Asking one of them flat out would be useless, partly because they were Slytherins and therefore automatically suspected of being up to no good, but mostly because Harry may have been a terrible liar, but he was intensely loyal to those he liked.

Following Harry, Hermione and Ron down to Hagrid's after class proved easier than expected, which re-enforced Draco's story. Harry's knack for avoiding Dudley and Ron Weasley's probable sense for trouble from growing up with the Weasly Twins would usually have made them much more aware of their surroundings and that they were being followed. Crabbe and Goyle were not known for their subtlety.

Peeking through the window while the others hid nearby, Draco relayed the going-ons in a whisper. "They're sitting around a table, and what looks like a big rock is sitting on it. The egg is wobbling and cracking and… oh, bloody hell."  
Mixed replies of "Draco, Language!" and "What is it?" were met with an almost shaky response. "I told you it was a dragon egg. The man has a bloody Norwegian Ridgeback! Damn! They've seen me, let's get out of here."

* * *

Over the next week, Draco had derived what many would consider an unseemly amount of pleasure by smirking at the Gryffindor Trio whenever he saw them. The Slytherins hadn't told anyone, largely because they doubted anyone would believe them, but also because that would mean having to relay how _they_knew about it. Besides, as Roisin pointed out, dragons grew like weeds, so how long could Hagrid actually keep the thing a secret? He would have to get rid of it, and with no trouble to them.

As if the load of schoolwork and the mess with the dragon wasn't enough, Wednesday the week after that brought even more trouble. Neville Longbottom had been forced to re-make the previous day's potion, as he was in severe danger of failing, and still managed to mess it up, unfortunately just as Roisin and Blaise were coming to ask Professor Snape a question about the potions essay they were working on.  
Entering first, Roisin had barely made it two steps into the classroom when Neville's cauldron exploded, covering her with gunk. Blaise immediately escorted her back out of the classroom with Professor Snape's offer of an extension and made a beeline for the Hospital Wing, listening to Professor Snape shouting at Neville.

The failed potion was cleaned off easily enough, but the Nurse, Madam Pomfrey, insisted on keeping Roisin overnight, just in case any unexpected side effects appeared. Blaise and Desdemona reappeared to join her for dinner and bring her the class work she had been working on, but left shortly after.

Thursday morning saw Roisin in a foul mood. The potion had caused her to break out in a rash late last night, and she was stuck in the Hospital Wing until at least lunchtime so Madam Pomfrey could figure out the cure.  
Things brightened slightly about half an hour before she was finally able to make her escape. Madam Pomfrey insisted that she have someone come up to escort her back to the Common Room, just in case, and Desdemona was just entering the room to wait with Roisin when she was nearly bowled over by Ron Weasley, who appeared in something of a rush. The reason why was quickly obvious. The red-head's hand was swollen to nearly twice its normal size, and turned a rather violent shade of purple.

Supposedly checking the rest of the room to see if Roisin had missed any of her assignments or notes that she had worked on while in the Hospital Wing, the two girls listened in as Weasley told Madam Pomfrey that he had been bitten by a dog. This prompted the girls to exchange an incredulous look. The only dog at Hogwarts belonged to Hagrid, and no boarhound could cause that sort of effect, no matter how hard they bit you.

Madam Pomfrey obviously came to the same conclusion, if her disbelieving expression was anything to go by, but she let Roisin go before they could stick around and find out more. Deciding that someone else would have to come up with an excuse to find out what was going on, the girls headed back to the Slytherin Common Room to tell the others what was going on.  
Hearing the news, Draco immediately rushed out to visit the Hospital Wing, under the pretence of borrowing a book. No one was under any delusions that he really just wanted to laugh at Weasly's misfortune. The news he returned with, however, was worth it.

Ron Weasley's brother Charlie had written him a letter, saying that he would come to collect the dragon that Saturday at midnight.

The news was priceless, but Roisin just wanted to go to her dorm and regain the sleep that she had missed the previous night. Leaving her year mates to discuss whether to tell a teacher or to ambush the Gryffindors themselves, she went upstairs and told them to call her when they had to go to afternoon classes.

* * *

Roisin never did get around to asking what the final verdict had been, but it became all too clear on Sunday morning, when they arrived for breakfast and walked past the hourglasses that showed the number of House points. Twenty of Slytherin's emeralds had been lost between last night and this morning, but Gryffindor had lost over a third of the shining rubies that represented their House points!

Belatedly realizing that they were blocking the doorway, the First Years quickly made their way to the Slytherin Table. Sitting down and helping herself to scrambled eggs and fruit, Roisin looked at her friends. "Okay, how the heck did Gryffindor manage to lose over a hundred points in one night?"

Draco pulled a face. "I wanted to catch Potter and his friends with the dragon, but McGonagall caught me. Slapped me with detention and took twenty points. Filch caught Potter, Granger and Longbottom and brought them to her office just as she was finishing a lecture. She yelled at them too, and gave them detention as well. Then went and took fifty points from each of them!"

Roisin winced and took a sip of orange juice. "Ouch. Things are not going to be pretty when the rest of Gryffindor finds out."  
Blaise nodded. "Look on the bright side, though. We're back in first place for the House cup."  
The others nodded in agreement, spirits lifting. Gryffindor's loss was Slytherin's gain, after all. Then a pair of Sixth Years walked past them, moaning about how exams were hell and they didn't even want to think about the NEWTs next year. The First Years exchanged looks. Back to studying it was.

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_A/N: Ok, you've made me resort to something I swore I would never do. Reviews are a good thing. They tell me what I am doing right, what readers would like to see more of, and point out any inconsistencies or things I am doing wrong.  
I've seen how many hits this story has, and I know that not everyone reading it is doing so at lightning speed before rushing off somewhere. _

_Seriously, feedback is appreciated, and I really don't want to have to lower myself to begging for reviews. You've spent however long reading the story, you can probably spare another thirty seconds to review._

_Nathalia._


	12. The End Of The Year

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Roisin's prediction of what would happen when the details of Gryffindor's lost one hundred and fifty points got out proved to be all too correct.

The three Gryffindors were ostracized by the other three houses, while most of Slytherin took great delight in cheering for them and thanking Harry for the loss of so many Gryffindor points. This only made things worse for Harry, but aside from glaring at the offender, there was really nothing Roisin could do to make her Housemates shut up, and had to settle for quiet support.

Even Quidditch, which Roisin knew to be her cousin's favourite part of Hogwarts, had gone downhill for Harry. Flint's Quidditch spies had reported that the rest of the team alternated between ignoring him and referring to him as only 'The Seeker'. While Flint was overjoyed at the rift in the Gryffindor team, Roisin couldn't help but feel sympathetic toward her cousin.

Neville and Hermione didn't have it quite as bad, but still suffered. Hermione had even stopped drawing attention to herself in class. Roisin really didn't see how that was supposed to help, although it was hard to miss several of the First Years from every house cheering that they could finally get a word in whenever a teacher asked a question.

Despite this, the castle atmosphere was rather subdued as they moved into the last week before the exams.

* * *

A break in the subdued and stressed atmosphere came when a traumatized Draco came stumbling back from his detention with the Gryffindors. The other Slytherin First Years had to spend over an hour calming him down and getting the details out of his rant about Horrible Detentions and Idiot Gamekeepers who thought it was a good idea to leave two First-Years with nothing but a dog for protection before he finally managed to fall asleep. Detention in the Forbidden Forest was enough to scare anyone, they all agreed afterward, once Draco was finally asleep, never mind seeing a dead unicorn and some kind of cloaked shadow drinking it's blood.

Lodging a vehement protest with Professors Snape and McGonagall, and the Headmaster, had no visible result, but Draco's letter home saw them watching a furious Mr Malfoy storming up from Hogsmeade as the First-Years made their way to Herbology. Given the whole situation, no one teased Draco when his nightmares continued until the exams, at which point everyone was too busy studying and/or worrying over the results to really dream about anything.

A few of the Slytherins could be heard complaining about how they dreamed of being chased by flying textbooks or potion vials shrieking about devouring student brains, which was not unusual before important tests, but otherwise, everyone was too exhausted to dream.

* * *

The night after the last exam, Roisin and Millicent had been volunteered by the others to help some of the older students sneak food from the kitchen for an 'Exams-Are-Over!' party when they ran into something unexpected.

Making their way back to the Common Room, arms laden with treats, they passed the Bloody Baron. Normally silent and sinister, their patron ghost was flushed a pale silver and ranting about Peeves and impudent someones daring to take his name in vain. Deciding not to make things worse by asking, the Slytherins remained silent until the Bloody Baron was out of hearing range and they were back in their Common Room.

Sitting with her friends, Roisin leaned back in her chair and selected a vanilla cupcake. "I wonder what that was about. The other ghosts have too much respect for the Baron to go around impersonating him, and Peeves wouldn't dare."

Draco gave her a puzzled look, swallowed a bite of Treacle Tart, and asked, "What are you on about? What does the Bloody Baron have to do with getting food for a party?"

Roisin and Millicent alternated between each other to explain what they had overheard. The others immediately began speculating what could have caused the Bloody Baron to behave in such an uncharacteristic way, but came up short.

Hearing them, a few of the older students leaned over to join the discussion. "Why would the Baron behave like that? None of us would show such disrespect, and the rest of the students are too intimidated by the bloodstains to try."

The Fifth Year Prefect, Tiberius, came to join them. "Beats me. The only weird thing I heard was that trio of Gryffindor Firsties saying something about a trapdoor and a dog being important."

Roisin wondered why a trapdoor would be important, then froze as she remembered something Ron Weasley had said months ago, when Draco had challenged Harry.

"_We went to the trophy room and nearly got caught by Filch. We managed to escape, but wound up in the third-floor corridor. Found out why it was forbidden, too. Last time I go near the place."_

Then what Harry had mentioned when she found him after that first, disastrous, Quidditch match.

"_I found out something about him. He was trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween." _

Third-floor corridor. A dog and a trapdoor. Dumbledore's warning about a very painful death! Roisin went almost as pale as the Bloody Baron's usual colour. She grabbed Tiberius's hand. "I need to talk to Professor Snape. It's an emergency!"

Blaise frowned; the other girls looked concerned, Draco looked even more confused than before. "What's so urgent, Rosie? You've gone pale, are you sure you don't need Madam Pomfrey?"

It was a mark of how worried Roisin was that she didn't respond to the despised nickname. She jumped to her feet and rushed out of the Common Room, closely followed by a worried Tiberius. He had no idea what was wrong, but if it managed to get one of the most self composed First Years in such a fluster, it had to be important.

* * *

Professor Snape was marking exams when two of his young snakes came bursting into his office. Knowing for a fact that Slytherin House was throwing a party to celebrate the end of the exams and should have no reason to be in his office, he raised an eyebrow. The prefect shrugged, obviously as in the dark as he was. The other student was Potter's cousin, Roisin. The Potions professor mentally groaned. Something to do with that blasted Potter brat again, he was sure.

Dismissing Tiberius with a wave of his hand, he nodded for Roisin to start talking. The girl started speaking faster than Granger usually did, words tumbling over each other. "The Bloody Baron was ranting about students daring to impersonate him, and Tiberius said that the only strange thing he heard was Harry, Weasly and Hermione saying something about a trapdoor and a dog and I remembered Weasly saying something about accidentally discovering a three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor on the third-floor. So I think they are going up there and I remember Dumbledore saying that anyone who did would die a painful death and I'm not crazy enough to try and stop them myself so I decided to come and ask you…"

Raising a hand to make the girl stop to breathe, Professor Snape mentally arranged what she had said into comprehensible sentences.

The foolish children were going after the Philosopher's Stone! Dumbledore was in London, but he would have to be called and told what was happening before it was too late! With that blasted dog and the Stone at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had at least had the sense to make sure the staff could contact him quickly in case of an emergency. Quickly opening his work diary and pressing a hidden button (Dumbledore had been watching too many muggle spy programs) Professor Snape ushered his panicking student out of the office. "Come, Miss O'Conner. I think we need to talk to the Headmaster. We will wait in his office until he returns."

Almost running in an attempt to keep up with her Head of House, Roisin tried to calm herself down as they made their swift way to the Headmaster's office. Stopping outside a very ugly gargoyle, Professor Snape said, _"Sugar Quill"_ which was obviously the password, as the gargoyle leapt to one side, revealing a staircase that probably lead to the Headmaster's office.

Once inside the office, Professor Snape gently guided his student to a chair and sat her down, then chose another chair for himself while they waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few minutes, the fireplace roared with green flames and Dumbledore stepped out. While still very worried for her cousin, Roisin had forced herself into a somewhat calmer state by now, and made a lot more sense when she explained her concerns to Dumbledore.

With what she considered to be an infuriating calmness, the Headmaster instructed Professor Snape to take Roisin back to the Common Room while he went after Harry and the others.

* * *

When under a great deal of stress, a person's moods can change quite rapidly. Given recent events, Roisin quickly went from worry to rage and she was darkly muttering very dire (not to mention physically improbable) suggestions as to what she would inflict on various people if Harry got hurt. Following Professor Snape back down to the dungeons, Roisin rejoined her friends, who instantly bombarded her with questions about what had her so worked up.

Seeing Roisin's obvious distress, Blaise told the others to shut up as they relocated to the First Year Boys dorms, which was slightly larger than the girls, having five occupants instead of four. Sitting down, they coaxed the story out of her. There was really nothing to say without sounding cruel or insensitive or blatantly false, since Draco wouldn't admit that Harry was resourceful under any circumstance whatsoever, and Desdemona looked ready and more than willing to hit anyone who upset Roisin further.

Bidding the boys a quick goodnight, the First Year girls forewent the rest of the party, rallied around Roisin and swept her off to their room for a good calming rest, broken only when Professor Snape arrived an hour or so later to inform her that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been found, mostly unhurt, and were safely confined to the Hospital Wing until Madam Pomfrey let them out. Roisin could visit them tomorrow, he said, but for now she was to get some rest.

* * *

Hogwarts was a school, which meant that nothing stayed a secret for very long. The Ravenclaw Patil Twin, although not quite the gossip her sister was, couldn't refrain from asking where Roisin was at breakfast the next day. Roisin was sitting with her cousin and refusing to budge, and the other Slytherin First Years were talking about what might be happening. Not really paying attention to Padma Patil's question, Crabbe accidentally spilled the general beans. Eyes wide, the Ravenclaw twin hurried over to talk to her sister and ask if she had any details. The Gryffindor twin promptly told her best friend, Lavender Brown, who told everyone who would listen that Harry had disappeared with Ron and Hermione last night and was now in the hospital wing. After that, it didn't take long for people to notice that Professor Quirrel was also absent, and link his disappearance to Harry's current condition, prompting a near-stampede to the Hospital Wing in search of answers.

Unfortunately for the would-be stampeders, Madam Pomfrey was tougher than she looked and extremely protective of her patients. Therefore, she had barred the doors to everyone who was not a patient's immediate family (which meant sibling or parent, excluding cousins), a member of staff, or genuinely injured, so the school was forced to wait until Hermione and Ron were released later that day.

Roisin had the feeling that they would probably have rather stayed in the Hospital Wing, as they were promptly bombarded with questions as soon as the other students caught sight of them. They refused to say anything, however, and so everyone had to content themselves with speculation and sending get-well-soon gifts.

Roisin spent a week staying in the Hospital Wing every spare moment she had, when sheer persistence and nagging finally persuaded Madam Pomfrey to extend 'family' to include cousins, and had to be literally dragged out of the Hospital Wing for curfew, classes and meals. She was joined in this by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and temporarily joined forces with them to beat off Oliver Wood when he tried to retrieve his Seeker for the match against Ravenclaw.

The Gryffindor Team were slaughtered by Ravenclaw, who beat out Hufflepuff for second place in the House Cup, much to Slytherin's delight. Roisin was even happier a day or two after the match, when she walked into the Hospital Wing to see Harry awake and trying to beg Madam Pomfrey to let him have visitors. The Matron was nice, but very strict, and it took him several minutes, while Roisin, Hermione and Ron listened at the keyhole, to talk her into letting them have five minutes.

Hermione beat Roisin to Harry's bedside, but thought better of hugging him back into unconsciousness, to Harry's obvious relief. Instead they sat down and listened to the events that had lead to Harry's week-long unconscious stay in the Hospital Wing. Roisin had dragged the other details out of Hermione and Ron earlier, about how they had discovered that the Philosopher's Stone was hidden at Hogwarts, how they thought Professor Snape was trying to steal it to bring Voldemort back, and the various trials they went through trying to retrieve the Stone before the culprit did.

Roisin had a few choice words over that, regarding both their idea of who was trying to steal it and Dumbledore's idea of defense, if three first years could get past so easily.

Listening to the rest of the story from Harry, Roisin had several more less than polite comments, this time including why they tried to go up against a Dark Lord by themselves (so what if Dumbledore wasn't there, why didn't they drag Flitwick or someone with them?) and how Voldemort had managed to go un-noticed for the entire year.

She was prevented from continuing, however, by Madam Pomfrey's declaration that they had been there for fifteen minutes already and they would either leave willingly, _now_, or she would throw them out herself and not let them return.

* * *

The day after that was the Hogwarts Leaving Feast, and while Ravenclaw may have won the Quidditch Cup, Slytherin had held the House cup for the eighth year running. Several Ravenclaws had been heard complaining about 'Slimy Slytherins' and 'almost had it'. The Slytherins who overheard them promptly informed the irate Ravenclaws not only where to take their complaints, but also what to do with them when they got there.

Professor Flitwick had overheard and taken points for their language, which Professor Snape had restored ten minutes later for 'creativity and inventive thinking', before giving the culprits detention for getting caught and endangering their grip on the House Cup.

So it was with great pride that the Slytherins entered the Great Hall to find it decorated in green, with the silver Serpent motif on the banners. Gryffindor Table was in a decided sulk, obviously under the impression that they should have been rewarded for Harry, Hermione and Ron's actions. A few Ravenclaws had taken their bad mood out by saying that if they were going to be rewarded, they would have been given points before now. This had nearly caused an all out brawl, but someone had spotted a professor and the two Houses had decided that it really wasn't worth it.

Roisin smiled in relief as she saw Harry enter, then in amusement as the entire Hall went completely still. It was mean of her, but the trapped expression on Harry's face was priceless as he made his way to the Gryffindor table.

Luckily, Dumbledore entered only a few moments later, and attention turned from Harry to Dumbledore's speech. Roisin waited for her Houses cheers to die down as Dumbledore announced them as the winners of the House Cup. The smiles faded slightly, however, when Dumbledore continued, saying that there were some last minute points to hand out. "First, to Mister Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor fifty points."

Ron Weasly looked like a radish with a bad sunburn as Gryffindor burst into cheers. Several Slytherins looked at each other in disbelief. Fifty points for a game of chess? If that wasn't a shoddy excuse for blatant favouritism, they didn't know what was, and they had an excellent education about favouritism from their own Head of House! A quick glance around the hall suggested that this was a once-off thing, as the currently-seething Chess Club hadn't won any points for their recent victory in a County-Wide tournament. Ron might be good, but Roisin doubted that he was _that_ good.

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of danger, I award Gryffindor fifty points."  
Hermione looked like she had burst into tears. The Slytherins looked ready to explode. This was just going too far. Even Hufflepuff was looking distinctly put out. Not only had they been overtaken at the last minute, but their sense of fair play and honesty had to be running around screaming at Dumbledore's reasoning for the extra points. The Sixth-Year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Care of Magical Creatures class hadn't been rewarded when they were learning how to deal with a sphinx last week, involving several complicated riddles and logic puzzles, and that was far more dangerous than figuring out a few potions!

"Third, to Mister Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor sixty points."  
The noise was deafening, but Roisin couldn't help think that Dumbledore wasn't doing Gryffindor any lasting favours. Hufflepuff still looked unhappy, and Ravenclaw looked ready to hurt someone. Nerve and Courage (or sheer stupidity, depending on your viewpoint) were supposedly traits of Gryffindor House, and 'third' implied that still more were to be given. Why not give Ravenclaw points for extreme bookishness leading up to exams, or give Hufflepuff a reward for their hard work and outrage on behalf of everyone, not just themselves?

Slytherin were just as furious. Gryffindor had gained one hundred and sixty points for the most transparent reasons anyone had ever heard (even some of the teachers were looking annoyed) and now they were tied with Slytherin! Dumbledore raised his hand for quiet, smiling benevolently, and several people around the Hall winced. This promised Violence. "There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies," (Gryffindor was making all kinds of enemies in the space of only a few minutes) "but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mister Neville Longbottom."

The Great Hall fell into a stunned silence, which was perfectly understandable, as Neville Longbottom had never gained so much as a point for Gryffindor before, but also because this was the most dreadful excuse yet. Terry Boot from Ravenclaw looked particularly annoyed, because he had been **docked **points last week, for turning Anthony Goldstien in for copying of an older student. Gryffindor House took a deep breath, about to burst into cheers, when an obviously furious Professor Snape stood up.

Professor Snape wasn't the only angry one. If the points had been handed out earlier, fine, but announcing them in the middle of the feast, especially _after_ the House Cup had already been awarded, served no real purpose than to seriously piss off Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and to humiliate Slytherin. Pansy looked ready to cry as Professor Snape spoke. "For common sense in knowing when to seek help from a Professor, ten points to Miss Roisin O'Conner."

Anyone paying attention could see a look of chagrin on Dumbledore's face, but he couldn't possibly refute Professor Snape's words without seeming biased. The students were obviously wondering whether they were supposed to cheer or not, as Slytherin and Gryffindor were tied once again, but the Headmaster spoke before things got out of hand. "Since we have a tie, it seems that a slight change in decoration is in order."

He clapped his hands, and half of the green and silver banners were replaced with red and gold. Professors Snape and McGonagall glared at each other, but shook hands anyway as the Feast appeared on the tables.

* * *

Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses maintained something of a frosty demeanour toward Gryffindor, but as they returned home the next day, and Gryffindor had sort of broken their losing streak, it had no real effect.

With everything that had happened, Roisin had almost forgotten that exam results were due back. Hermione Granger had come top of the year (much to any number of people's annoyance, but no-one's real surprise) but Roisin and the Slytherins had also scored quite well. Roisin's highest marks had been in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, despite the utterly useless Professor Quirrel.

Then, all of a sudden, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed and Neville Longbottom's toad was found lurking in the Second Year Girls toilet (how it got there was a mystery), located by following the screams. The toad was promptly thrown at the boy's head when they tracked him down to give it back.

Notices were handed out informing the students that they were not allowed to do magic over the holidays. The older Slytherins informed the younger ones that they should borrow their parent's wands if they needed to do magic.

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley didn't know she was forbidden to do magic, and the Keep had a ward around it to make magic detection impossible, so Roisin wasn't overly worried.

Hagrid took the First Years down to the little fleet of boats that sailed across the lake back to the station. Roisin didn't see why they couldn't just take thecarriages like the rest of the school, but there was no use protesting.

They boarded the Hogwarts Express and set off for London, happily discussing what they would do over the Summer Holidays. Fionna had written Roisin and informed her that she would be coming to the O'Conner Keep for Lughnasadh and the remainder of the holidays after that, but until then she would have to put up with Privet Drive.

Being stuck at Privet Drive also meant Hell To Pay at the appearance of anything out of the ordinary. This in mind, Roisin asked her friends to send letters to the O'Conner Keep or wait until the second half of the holidays to write her. It was hardly an ideal solution, but better than nothing.

All too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling into the station, and Roisin was waving goodbye to her friends, promising to keep in touch by owl whenever possible. She was stuck with Muggles for the first half of the holidays, after all.

They crossed the barrier between stations in small groups so as not to attract attention, and Roisin sighed when she and Harry went through, and were met by her parents and Dudley. Harry managed a hasty goodbye to Hermione and the Weasley family before they were dragged off, out of sight of _normal_ people, for what promised to be a long summer…

**THE END OF YEAR ONE**

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_A/N: I know I made Roisin sound like a bit of a Mary-Sue at the feast, but doesn't anyone else think that Dumbledore's announcement was kind of unfair? It embarrassed Slytherin in front of the entire school, and the points could have just as easily been handed out quietly before the feast, rather than getting people's hopes up. The other two houses may have been celebrating the Downfall of Slytherin, but I doubt that they would have been too pleased with the sudden change in house points, either _

_Anyway, take a few minutes to leave a review, and I welcome suggestions on whether I should make Year Two a separate story, or a continuation of this one. _

_Nat_


	13. Summer, Dinner and Disaster

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be holidaying somewhere in the sub-tropics, rather than complaining about sadistic teachers who co-ordinate to make everything due on the same day._

_Summary: Roisin is back for her second year, but what will happen with a lousy Defense teacher and a monster that has everyone blaming Slytherin House?_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

It was a warm day on July 31st, and Roisin Dursley was daydreaming at the kitchen table, happily counting down the days of summer. Only one more day, and she was out of here to visit her extended family in Ireland.

It wasn't that she didn't still care about her immediate family, just that it was very difficult to separate the Magical and Muggle parts of her life, and in the meantime, everyone was uncomfortable, and putting on a show for the neighbours was very tiring.

And then there was the other thing. Despite the volume and the fact that it was happening less than a meter away, Roisin managed to ignore the fight between her parents and her cousin, Harry Potter, over Harry's pet waking them up. Again.

Harry finally gave up the argument and sat back in his seat as Roisin's twin brother, Dudley, belched and demanded more bacon. Roisin pulled a disgusted face as her mother started cooing over him, talking about how she didn't like the sound of the food at Dudley's boarding school.

Roisin barely managed to stifle a noise of disbelief. Her brother was large enough that his bottom draped over both sides of the chair. Dudley didn't need extra nourishment nearly as much as he needed a serious diet before he developed heart problems. Finally realizing that his sister was calmly ignoring him until he asked properly, Dudley turned to Harry instead. "Pass the frying pan."

Harry glared at him. "You forgot the magic word."

Roisin thumped her head on the table as the rest of the room exploded. Dudley fell off his chair with a crash that shook the entire room. Petunia let out a small scream and covered her mouth. Vernon leapt to his feet, a vein throbbing in his temple. Harry obviously recognized the danger signs, as he quickly tried to explain. "I meant please! I didn't mean…"

It was too late, and Vernon had been set off again, completely ignoring Harry's attempts to protest and explain. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SAYING THE M WORD UNDER OUR ROOF? HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY! I WARNED YOU, I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY IN THIS HOUSE!"

Roisin was looking for a quick and un-noticed route out of the kitchen when Vernon finally calmed down, although he was still very red. Relieved that the danger had passed for at least a short time, Roisin quickly finished her breakfast, hoping to avoid any more 'M-word' related incidents.

* * *

In most places, the word 'magic' would bring very little response. Indeed, many parents used it as an enticement to teach their children manners. Number Four Privet Drive, however, was an exception, and with fairly good reason.

Both Harry and Roisin were able to do magic. Not the smoke-and-mirror kind of magic that is performed at parties, but actual, spells-potions-and-enchantments magic. Harry's parents, James Potter and Roisin's Aunt Lily, had been a wizard and witch, but the Dursley family was depressingly normal and as non-magical (the correct term was 'Muggle') as you could get. Well, Roisin's witch of a paternal grandmother had been the one to use the phrase 'depressingly normal' but the point stood.

The Dursleys hated anything that they considered 'Abnormal', and One had to admit, magic was about as abnormal as you got while still being human.

The exception (and real kicker) to this was Roisin's paternal grandparents, Frank and Fionna O'Conner-Dursley. Frank had been a Muggle-Born Wizard, but Fionna was born and raised the daughter of the purely magical O'Conner Clan in Ireland. Roisin was very thankful that she would be going to visit them the next day, and staying for the rest of the holidays.

Roisin was just about to escape the kitchen and finish packing when her father cleared his throat. "Now as we all know, today is a very important day. It could be the day I make the biggest deal of my career."

Roisin sighed; not this again. For weeks now her father had been going on about a rich couple, the Masons, who worked in Building and were thinking about buying a large shipment of drills. Vernon's drill company, Grunnings, had put Vernon in charge of making a good impression and convincing them to accept Grunnings as the main supplier.

Vernon had decided that the best way to do this was to invite the Masons over for dinner. Roisin thought that this was going to be a disaster. She shook her head as her father continued. "I think we should run through the schedule once more. We should all be in position by eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be - ?"

"In the lounge," Petunia replied promptly, scurrying to the door leading to said area, "Waiting to welcome them graciously into our home."

Roisin raised an eyebrow. The Masons were businesspeople, and if they couldn't see through such an obvious act, then she would do something drastic. Wondering how the other members of her family were going to make this even worse, she started paying attention to what Vernon was saying. "Good, good, and Dudley?"

Roisin watched as her brother forced a simpering smile onto his face. "I'll be waiting at the door. 'May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?'"

Petunia clapped her hands. "They'll absolutely love him!"

Roisin marveled at the wonders of self-denial as Vernon turned to her. "Roisin?"

_Wait, you can't be thinking of including your abnormal offspring, too! _"I'll be playing the model daughter, quiet and polite, and see what I can say to make you look better."

Vernon looked angry at the phrasing and note of sarcasm, but couldn't really find anything wrong with her comment. He turned to Harry. "And _you_?"

Harry sighed and said, tonelessly, "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

He rolled his eyes at Roisin as soon as Vernon's back was turned. Roisin smirked. Gods, what she wouldn't give to be away from here. Even Crabbe and Goyle, two of her friendship group at Hogwarts, would be better company than this, and they were about as slow as molasses.

Vernon was still speaking. "At eight fifteen – "

"I'll announce dinner." Petunia continued.

"Excellent. And Dudley, you'll say –"

"May I escort you to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" Dudley mimed offering his arm to an invisible woman. Roisin closed her eyes, ignoring Petunia's praise. She was going to have her work cut out for her if she didn't want the Masons to run screaming before dinner was even served. Dudley would try, certainly, but there was not a twelve-year-old boy in the world who could pull that off.

Vernon continued to outline the doomed strategy. "We should try to get some compliments in before dinner. Any ideas?"

"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason… Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason…?"

"How about 'we had to do an essay on our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"

Petunia burst into tears of joy and hugged her son. Roisin barely stopped herself from bursting into tears of despair. You didn't pre-plan complements like that! How would they know if Mr. Mason even _liked_ golf, or what if Mrs. Mason showed up in a tailored suit? School had ended a month ago, and Vernon had only found out that he would be meeting with the Masons a bit over a fortnight ago. There was no way Dudley's compliment would hold any more water than a sieve, if that much.

Roisin sighed. How would Draco or Pansy handle this? "Maybe 'Your outfit looks stunning, Mrs. Mason.' Or 'My dad says that you are an excellent businessman, Mr. Mason. What kind of building do you do?'"

Vernon frowned, but didn't comment as he turned back to Harry, who, in Roisin's opinion, got the better half of the bargain. "And you, boy?"

Shooting his apparently desperate cousin a sympathetic look, Harry repeated his previous statement. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

Roisin quickly schooled her face into a blank mask as Vernon caught the look. Thankfully, he ignored it. "Too right you will. The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner is over, Petunia and Roisin can take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, and I'll bring the topic round to drills. With any luck," (Gods knew that they'd need it, in Roisin's opinion) "I'll have that contract signed and sealed before the _News at Ten_. We'll be shopping for a holiday home in Majorca this time tomorrow!"

Roisin and Harry chose this point to make an escape as Vernon started on about picking up dinner jackets.

* * *

Harry went outside into the sunshine. Roisin went up to her room to find something suitable for a fancy dinner. She had finally selected a pale green dress and black shoes that her grandmother had given her over the Winter Holidays when there was a loud howl from outside.

Looking out the window, she saw her brother running inside, one hand clamped over his bottom, screaming for their mother. It looked like Harry had been taunting Dudley with magic to make the larger boy leave him alone. Petunia didn't look pleased, and Roisin decided to make herself scarce before her mother decided to try to make Roisin force Harry to stop it. Roisin had found that the best way to deal with things was a policy of mutual avoidance when Dudley was in a stirring mood, but it hadn't caught on with anyone else.

Retrieving books, quill and parchment from her trunk, Roisin started her Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment for the summer.

* * *

At quarter to eight, Roisin had changed and headed downstairs, finding Harry finishing his dinner at top speed and racing upstairs. Dudley and Vernon were in suits and dinner jackets that didn't quite fit properly, and Petunia wore a salmon cocktail dress and pearls. Luckily, the doorbell rang before Roisin had the chance to comment.

The Masons entered, Mrs. Mason wearing a tailored skirt-and-blouse ensemble, and Dudley said his lines. Roisin, who had settled in a chair with her current novel, closed her book and put it to one side as Petunia ushered the Masons into the lounge room. Following them, Dudley sneered and motioned for her to not say anything and just remain quiet.

Roisin narrowed her eyes at him. The heck she would! Slytherins did not obey orders mindlessly, and if she didn't chip in she was sure that the whole thing was going to be a disaster from start to finish!  
She didn't plan on doing anything openly to ruin the night, however, (Her family would probably do a fine job without any of her help) and just smiled politely at the Masons before picking up a pen and notebook that had been lying on a side table.

Mr. Mason was already involved in small talk, but Mrs. Mason did not seem the gossiping type, and looked like she was trying to escape Petunia's tales of the neighborhood. While interesting for a while, there was only so much gossip you could take. Quickly making her way to where Roisin sat, Mrs. Mason joined her. "What is this you're doing, child?"

Roisin looked up and smiled. What a wonderful opportunity to present herself as studious and keep Mrs Mason occupied. "It's a book report for my school. I have to read and summarize a book, and comment on what I did or didn't like and why. I'm afraid I'm not doing very well on properly wording it, though."

Mrs. Mason smiled back. "Book reports aren't usually too hard. What book are you basing it on?"

Roisin was very tempted to burst into maniacal cackling that witches in storybooks were famed for. The book was a fantasy novel, stuffed full of magic and mythical creatures like dragons and unicorns. All children had a phase where they did everything they could to annoy everyone else, and this was going to kill her parents. "It's called _The Willow Tree's Daughter_ by Emily Rodda. It starts with a Prince wanting to go on an adventure before he becomes King, and meeting a willow tree dryad. They fall in love and she goes back with him to be his queen. They have a daughter, Betony, but she is really not the normal kind of princess. Betony is half-dryad, so she'd rather work in the garden than dance or embroider, and she gets into all sorts of adventures, like facing down her sorceress grandmother and falling in love with the Gardener's Boy. Princes come to ask for her hand, and she makes them tend a garden for a year and a day, and marries the Gardener's Boy when they can't do it."

Roisin could see her family struggling not to burst into hysterics, and mentally congratulated herself on a job well done, especially since she was making her plan up as she went along. Mrs. Mason nodded at her explanation. "Well, that sounds like a good start to a summery, now what didn't you like about it?"

Mrs. Mason liked Fantasy books and was focusing her attention on the Freak of the family! Roisin couldn't have come up with something more antagonistic if she had tried!

It was at this point that they were interrupted by a loud '_thump'_ and loud yelps from upstairs. Vernon forced a smile and hurried upstairs, mumbling an excuse about Dudley having left the television on by accident. Roisin knew that he was going up to yell at Harry, who really needed to learn subtlety. There were better ways for him to ruin things, and several more that were less likely to get him caught and punished!

Petunia, who had been growing paler by the second, interrupted to announce dinner. Roisin put down her book and followed everyone into the Dining Room, shooting a gleeful smirk at her brother, who scowled.

* * *

Dinner was Roast Pork, accompanied by vegetables and oven-roasted potatoes and pumpkin. Desert was displayed on the sideboard, a huge mound of cream and sugared violets that Roisin knew for a fact Petunia had spent hours making.

Conversation continued fairly well, as Petunia obviously couldn't use her 'such a lovely dress' line and Roisin had already used the 'School report' one, which forced them to pay attention in order to make real conversation. Dinner had just been finished and Roisin and Dudley were clearing away the plates as a show of good up-bringing when there was the sound of someone running down the stairs and a loud crash.

Running into the kitchen, they were greeted with the sight of Harry absolutely covered with what _had_ been the cream-and-violet pudding. The Masons were ushered back into the lounge room, leaving Harry to clean up the mess, and Vernon breathed a somewhat-more-obvious-than-he-might-have-hoped sigh of relief, trying to gloss things over.

It was beginning to look like he might actually manage it, and Mr. Mason had actually brought out the contract and started to sign when they were interrupted again, this time by a large owl carrying a letter, which it dropped directly onto Mrs. Mason's lap.

Mrs. Mason let out a piercing scream and ran out, leaving Mr. Mason to inform them that his wife was petrified of birds and demand if they thought this was some kind of joke. They left abruptly and Vernon rounded on Harry, who had entered the room to see what the fuss was about. The letter, as it turned out, was a notification from the Use of Underage Magic Office, reminding Harry that he was forbidden to use magic outside of school and a warning that any further magic would see him expelled from Hogwarts.

Seeing her father advance on Harry with an almost maniacal grin on his face, Roisin decided that this might not be the best time to point out that at least they had signed their half of the contract and left it behind, and made herself scarce.

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_A/N: So, first chapter of year two. How am I doing so far? Remember, reviews help me write, and are very much appreciated. Take a few seconds to leave one. _

_Thanks,  
__Nathalia._


	14. Escape to the Burrow

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be holidaying somewhere in the sub-tropics, rather than complaining about sadistic teachers who co-ordinate to make everything due on the same day.  
Summary: See previous chapters_

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**Chapter Fourteen**

Roisin's portkey to the O'Conner Keep was due to leave at 5 a.m. on August 1st, bringing her to the Keep in time for the Lughnasadh festival. Leaving before anyone in the house was even stirring, Roisin had managed to escape wrath and general chaos for a few days.

Lughnasadh was the celebration of the beginning of the harvest. There were contests of strength and skill, horse riding, and invoking the blessings of the gods to ask for a good harvest.

The celebration was two-fold this year, as one of the older girls who had taken Roisin under her wing was to undergo the Handfasting, or 'Trial Marriage', ceremony to a young man by the name of Sean Muldoon. Another couple, Aislin and Bran, would complete their Handfasting and either leave the union, or become married on a permanent basis.

There had been a few teasing comments about how they could finally get rid of each other, but these were largely ignored. As Seamus had pointed out to Roisin (who had been too glad at escaping more Hogwarts-based questions to protest the change of topic) the couple was "so in love that it's just silly."

The Lughnasadh festival lasted from the 1st of August to the 2nd and two days after that, disaster struck. While the Clan frowned on relationships with non-magical persons, association was accepted. Unfortunately, some half-blood and the occasional muggle-born friends did not have access to an owl, and so sent messages to a drop-box in a nearby town. The town was visited every few days to collect any mail, and this time a letter for Roisin and Fionna spelled trouble.

Vernon and Petunia had used their status as her legal guardians to instantly send a message to the O'Conner Clan, forbidding Roisin to stay with her grandmother for the rest of the holidays and return home immediately, regardless of protests.

* * *

Inspired by the newfound knowledge that Hogwarts Students were not allowed to do magic during the holidays, Vernon and Petunia ignored the facts that Roisin's highest score had been in potions, a non-wand-waving subject, and that Fionna didn't _need _magic to be intimidating. They had calmed down after Roisin left a note pointing out that Mr Mason had signed his half of the contract, but they were still furious at Harry, who was - to put it politely - confined to his room for the forseeable future.

There were bars on the window of the study that had been converted into Harry's bedroom last year, and he was allowed out for toilet breaks three times a day. The rest of the time, he was on a steady diet of bread, water, and the occasional tin of soup, delivered by Roisin, who had actually gone up in her parents favour. Magical Roisin might be, but 'at least she hadn't gone around doing magic when she wasn't allowed to, drawing the attention of other freaks and ruining important deals in the process'. Apparently, they hoped that this attempt at acting normal would rub off on Harry if she was there.

This was better than what could have happened, and at least Harry wasn't back in the cupboard, but it still did not a happy arrangement make. Roisin believed her cousin's story about the maniac house-elf, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. The house-elf had better hope that she _never_ got her hands on it.

Roisin was _so_ telling her grandmother about this. Money and Power and Influence ruled the Wizarding World. The O'Conner Clan had plenty of the first two, and several of Roisin's friends had family wielding the third. Roisin was a Slytherin to the bone, even if she did have a streak of Hufflepuff loyalty. Slytherins didn't get mad, they got viciously even. At the very least, they could find out who the House Elf belonged to, and do something unplesant to them.

The worst part was that Hedwig was locked up, and Roisin wasn't about to court disaster by using an unlocking charm, which meant that there was no way to write to anyone else. Perhaps it would be a good idea to ask Fionna for her own owl for her birthday. There was a consolation, however. Roisin might not have been able to do magic, and Hedwig may have been locked up, but her friends would certainly get worried if she didn't reply for too long. Prolonged lack of contact might even be worth it to see her family's reaction to Fionna and Professor Snape showing up to find out what happened to her.

Then again, Harry was already in trouble, and it wasn't worth giving Professor Snape any more ammunition, or straining relations between Fionna and her son any more than they already were.

* * *

Roisin had never been a heavy sleeper, and summer homework had kept her up late. She had barely started to close her eyes when she spotted something outside the window and bolted upright with a gasp.

A Ford Angelica was driving past her second-storey window, driven by three freckled red-heads who could only be those bloody Weasleys! That was confirmed when Ron peered through the mostly-shut curtains, whispering loudly back to his brothers. "No, this one is just O'Conner. Try the next window."

Bugger that for a Game of Soldiers! Roisin threw on her dressing gown and slippers, thankful that her bedroom was nearest to the converted study. At the very least, they needed to make sure that the Weasleys didn't wake anyone else up! Roisin's mother might have been a big gossip, but she was far from the only one on the street; just imagine if someone woke up and saw the flying car!

Slipping down the hall, she knocked on Harry's door as loudly as she dared, pressing her ear to the door as she heard the creak of a window being opened and Harry's voice, which was at least quiet. "Ron, what are you doing here?"

Roisin pressed her ear closer in order to hear the other boy's reply. "Rescuing you, of course. Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad comes home and says that you received a warning about use of Underage Magic. What happened? You know we're not supposed to do magic outside of school."

Roisin fought the urge to huff. The idiots had somehow enchanted a car to fly, or at least had someone else enchant it for them, and had driven it into a Muggle neighborhood! Now _they_ were going on about underage magic?

Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Roisin, and she could imagine him staring pointedly at the car. "Bit rich coming from you."

Roisin closed her eyes and took a deep breath, unsure if she wanted this to be a hallucination. Escape was a wonderful concept, certainly for Harry, but escape via _flying car_? Just the noise was enough to start to wake her parents up any minute now, and what if they were still flying by the time the sun came up or the early-risers were up and driving to work?

Harry and Ron were still quietly discussing use of Underage Magic and whether or not the car counted. Finally, they got around to the actual point of how Harry was going to get out without using magic. Ron Weasly's answering grin worried her. "Don't worry; you forget who I've got with me."

Well, yes, the Weasley Twins could get in or out of nearly anywhere, but they were not always subtle. The advantages were obvious: If anyone could get them out safely, and without using magic, the self-proclaimed (even if the title was well deserved) Pranksters Extraordinaire could.

On the other hand, _they were driving a flying car_, and nearly every member of Hogwarts who had a working brain also had a healthy wariness for _anything_ those two were involved in, no matter how safe it _seemed_.

There was the sound of a car going into sudden and fast reverse, and a clang that suggested that it had ripped the bars right out of the wall. Down the hall, Roisin heard her father give a sigh, but thankfully made no other indication that he had heard anything.

There was the sound of scratching at the lock, and Roisin stepped away just as it opened, revealing a Weasley Twin crouched down at doorknob height, a piece of wire in his hand. For a moment, all four boys froze, then relaxed when they realized that it was only her. The twin at the door stood up slowly. "Mind if I go get Harry's trunk? Only, we don't want to stick around."

Roisin stepped aside and went to fetch her own trunk. After Roisin had been introduced to Blaise's mother at the Station, after a issue with the Floo had caused any number of late parental pick-ups, the few adults present had put feather-light and shrinking charms on the trunk of various students, and started organizing those who were meant to be traveling by Floo into groups to go to the Leaky Cauldron, which was not far away, and Floo from there. Luckily, both charms activated with a tap of the wand, so it could not even really be considered underage magic. Roisin had then hidden the trunk in her closet as soon as she got home, for the sake of peace and discretion, while her family was busy trying to get Harry's trunk away from him.

Roisin got back to Harry's room just as the Weasley twin did, he and Ron wrestling Harry's trunk into the car. From her parent's room, Roisin heard her father cough.

Knowing that they were pressed for time, Roisin picked up her own trunk just as Hedwig let out a loud screech.

This was followed immediately by a shout of "THAT RUDDY OWL!"

Realizing that he had nearly forgotten Hedwig, Harry clambered back inside to fetch his owl, and Roisin took the opportunity to push her trunk into the back seat. There was no way she was staying here to deal with the fall-out.

The twin in the driver's seat frowned at her. "We came to pick up Harry, and I don't know if there's enough room for you and another trunk! Get off!"

Roisin ignored him, measuring the distance from the car to the window. It wasn't too much higher, placing the top of the closed door at about the same height as one of the smaller horses that she had ridden while visiting Ireland during the previous holidays. She swung herself into the car, ignoring the glaring twin. "You're Gryffindors, you'll survive. You have nothing I want aside from a lift away from here, since there is no way I'm sticking around to try and explain this. Say you abducted me because you were worried that I'd raise the alarm."

Any further argument was cut off as Vernon battered down the door and lunged for Harry, who was half-way back out the window. Vernon grabbed Harry by the ankle. Roisin let out a yelp as Ron Weasly landed on her leg as he and the Twins grabbed Harry's arms, starting a human tug-of-war.

Roisin moved as far away as the limited confines of the car would allow, trying to remain un-noticed as Vernon yelled for her mother. "Petunia, he's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

This brought Petunia and Dudley running just as the Weaslys gave a giant heave and dragged Harry into the car, leaving the rest of the Dursley family hanging out of the window.

Finally getting out of there, the rescuers and escapees settled back for the drive, letting Hedwig out to float on silent wings behind them. Roisin closed her eyes and leaned back, listening with one ear as Harry explained the events that had gotten them into the mess in the first place.

She started paying more attention when one of the Weasley Twins (Roisin had given up trying to keep them separate long ago) asked if it was some kind of prank, but who would want to do something that might get Harry expelled.

Ron and Harry exchanged a look, coming up with an immediate answer. "Draco Malfoy. He hates me."

The other Weasley Twin turned around sharply. "Draco Malfoy? Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

Roisin rolled her eyes. With as blood-fanatic as that line traditionally was, there weren't a whole lot of them, and even if there were, Draco was hardly a commonly used name. Also, regardless of his father's alleged actions (since she had no hard facts on the matter, Roisin wasn't really interested in arguing about it), Draco just wasn't Death Eater Material.

As speculation turned to whether or not the Malfoys even _owned _a house-elf, Roisin decided it was time to interject. "The Malfoy family is old and rich enough to have dozens of house-elves, but I doubt they sent the wretched thing to you. Draco may be far more impulsive than a Slytherin should, but he would insist on getting you in trouble personally. Draco is my friend and Housemate, but he isn't nearly subtle enough to pull something like this off."

The other occupants of the car looked frankly disbelieving, but as the topic had reached a proverbial dead-end, the conversation turned to what the Weaslys had been up to and what had prompted them to come and check on Harry. It turned out that Mr. Weasley, their father, was obsessed with Muggles and had enchanted the car to fly.

"So does your Dad know that you have the car?" Harry finally asked. Roisin rolled her eyes, wasn't the answer that he certainly didn't kind of obvious? No parent was going to let a pair of fourteen-year olds drive a flying car without supervision, especially in the middle of the night.

The conversation turned to Mr. Weasley and his job at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic. Roisin closed her eyes again and tried to get some amount of sleep.

* * *

She was woken again when one of the Twins pointed out the main road. "We should be there in about ten minutes. Just as well, it's starting to get light."

There was a faint pinkish glow on the horizon, and Roisin could see a dark patchwork of fields and trees as the driving Twin started to bring the car lower.

They landed with a small bump next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard in front of the Weasley house. Roisin had to give the dwelling credit; it was a far cry from the Dursley residence.

The house looked like it had once been a large stone pigsty, with rooms added on at random intervals until it was several stories high. It had four or five crooked chimneys, and if not for the existence of magic, Roisin was sure it would have collapsed long ago. A lopsided sign proclaimed it 'The Burrow', a jumble of Wellington boots surrounded the front door, and several fat chickens pecked their way across the yard.

It would have given Petunia Dursley a heart attack.

They all got out of the car as the Weasley Twins outlined their plan. "Now we'll all go upstairs really quietly, and then wait until Mum calls us down for breakfast. Then Ron, you'll come bounding downstairs, going 'Hey, Mum, look who turned up during the night!' She'll be so pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know that we flew the car."

Roisin couldn't believe her ears as the Weasley Twins looked pleased with themselves. That was it? Sneak in, pretend Harry had shown up during the night, and hope their mother didn't ask too many questions?

They were talking about a parent, and parents almost _always_ knew if a child had been doing something they shouldn't. Ottery St. Catchpole was nowhere near Little Whinging, how were Harry and Roisin supposed to have made their way here? Why were they here without an invitation or Mr. and Mrs. Weasly's prior knowledge? Roisin had no association with the Weasleys, so why would she be there instead of with family or other school friends?

Things were going to go to Hell in a hand basket, and Roisin was going to be the unfortunate bystander caught in the backlash.

The Weaslys apparently also had a sudden realization that this wouldn't work, as Ron had just turned an interesting shade of green at the sight of Mrs. Weasley approaching, looking remarkably like a saber-toothed tiger.

Roisin tried to make herself as un-noticeable as possible as Mrs. Weasley reached them, looking from one guilty face to the next. She shook her head as one of the Weasley Twins (Fred, she thought?) tried to calm his mother down in what he obviously hoped was a jaunty, winning voice. It wasn't going to work.

Roisin recognized the soft, dangerous tone in Mrs. Weasley's voice. It was one that Professor Snape used when highly upset about something. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

Roisin winced. Oh, boy, this was not going to be pretty. "Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to-."

The Weasley boys cowered as Mrs. Weasley's wrath washed over them. "_Beds empty… No note… Car gone! Could have crashed… Out of my mind with worry… Did you care? Never, as long as I've lived… You wait until your father gets home! We never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy…"_

The other twin chose that moment to mutter "Perfect Percy."

Roisin winced again. Their mother was in the middle of a rant already, was the idiot _trying_ to make things worse? She was proven right when Mrs. Weasley's voice rose another few octaves. "YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK! You could have _died_! You could have been _seen_! You could have lost your father his job…"

Parental scoldings always seem to go on longer than they actually do, but even staying out of the line of fire, Roisin thought that it certainly went on a long time. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned to Harry and Roisin. Harry backed away. Roisin looked for the fastest exit.

"Of course I'm very pleased to see you, Harry dear, come inside and have some breakfast. Oh, and who might you be?"

Obviously, Roisin hadn't been mentioned in whatever the Weasleys had told their mother, but there was no reason for her to have been. "Roisin O'Conner, ma'am. Harry's my cousin."

Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley smiled. "My boys never mentioned you, but come and join us anyway."

Perhaps the Weasley Matriarch was more tolerant of House differences than her sons? Roisin certainly hoped so as she followed Mrs. Weasley toward the house and into a small and rather cramped kitchen. Roisin joined Harry at a scrubbed table and looked around. She had seen magical cookbooks, the WWN and things like the clock at the O'Conner Keep (a location clock was invaluable in keeping track of active young family members, Nessa had told her) and smirked at Harry's obvious fascination.

Mrs. Weasley bustled around making breakfast, still muttering about how she couldn't believe her sons had done such a thing, and assuring Harry that of course she didn't blame him.

"It was cloudy, Mum," Probably-Fred Weasley insisted, his mouth full.

"Keep your mouth closed while you are eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum," said George.

"And you!"

Luckily, there was a diversion in the form of a small, red-haired girl in a long nightdress who appeared in the doorway, squealed, and ran out again. Roisin blinked, echoing Harry's quizzical look at the Weasley boys. Ron explained in an undertone, "Ginny. Our sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

Fred snickered. "Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph." He caught his mother's eye and bent back over his plate. Silence reigned until all of the plates were empty, which took surprisingly little time. Or perhaps not so surprisingly, as the other table occupants were all growing boys.

Fred set down his knife and fork with a yawn. "Blimey, I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed and-."

"You will not!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. "It's your own fault that you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me, they're getting completely out of hand."

Roisin raised an eyebrow as the Weasley boys moaned; surely they hadn't expected to get off _that_ easily? Still, the boys obviously knew better than to complain as they headed out the door to start de-gnoming. Harry was about to follow when Roisin touched his arm, "Harry, you know how you said Hedwig needed exercise…"

Harry grinned. "Yes, you can borrow Hedwig. You know that was nowhere near subtle, right?"

Roisin tossed her hair and smirked, fetching parchment and quill from her trunk, resting with Harry's just inside the door. "Subtlety is wasted on Gryffindors. I need to tell Nana what happened and where we are now. Then I need to send a letter to Desdemona and the others, they'll be freaking out by now."

Harry suddenly looked like he was re-considering letting her use Hedwig. "You're going to send Hedwig to Malfoy?"

Roisin rolled her eyes. The entire school knew about the rivalry between Harry and Draco, she wasn't fool enough to send Harry's owl to Draco, if only because he'd probably ignore it on principle. "No, I'm going to send all of the letters to Desdemona, with a note asking her to distribute them. I'm not sure that Blaise is back from Italy yet, anyway, and I won't send Hedwig that far."

Harry shrugged. "Fine, then. Join us outside when you're done?"

Roisin nodded distractedly, and then started on her letters. The first one was to Fionna.

_Dear Nana,_

_You are probably worried about my lack of communication by now. My parents were more than a little upset about the House-Elf Incident, and confined Harry to hi room, locking Hedwig in her cage. I suppose I really should stop relying on being able to borrow Hedwig or a School Owl all the time._

_The Weasley twins broke us out last night, and we are currently at their home, The Burrow, near Ottery St. Catchpole. I have also written my friends with an explanation, but as yet have no current plans for the rest of the summer. I hope to be able to return to the O'Conner Keep, if that is agreeable. _

_Yours Faithfully_

_Roisin O'Conner._

The next letter was to Desdemona. Roisin had started to run low on parchment, and decided to send a general letter, trusting her friend to pass it on.

_To Desdemona,_

_First of all, I am __so__ sorry I haven't written until now. There was an incident with some insane house-elf that had Harry being blamed for underage magic and me being dragged back from the Keep for confinement and no method of communication, since Harry's Owl wasn't allowed out, and I'm pretty sure none of you have a telephone._

_I am free now, thankfully, as the Weasleys came to rescue Harry and I joined them before they could protest. I am currently at the Weasley house and have already written Grandmother to get me out of here. The abundance of Gryffindors is killing me._

_I am running low on parchment, so could you pass the message onto the others? Is Blaise back from Italy yet? When are you going to Diagon Alley for supplies? Perhaps we could make it a group outing._

_I have to go now; paranoia over the Weasley twins in close proximity is setting in. I know that sounds rude, but you've met those two. Hopefully I will see you soon._

_Yours in Friendship,_

_Roisin O'Conner._

Folding both letters, Roisin closed them with the personalized seal that Fionna had given her over Lughnasadh. A carved relief of a single rose, surrounded by Latinized Furthrak Runes from the Viking invasion: her name on the top half, and the clan motto '_Constant and True'_ on the lower half.

Giving the letters to Hedwig, Roisin watched the owl's flight for a few moments, and then headed outside, just in time to duck a badly-aimed gnome.

Straightening up and glaring at her sheepish-looking cousin, Roisin sighed. She really hoped that Hedwig would return soon.

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Here we have chapter two. Chapter three is in the works and should be up soon.  
Unless my two reviewers have read the last chapter an average of thirty times each, I just wanted to remind everyone of the drill: be nice and leave a review._

_Nathalia._


	15. Shopping Trips and Back To Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be holidaying somewhere in the sub-tropics, rather than complaining about sadistic teachers who co-ordinate to make everything due on the same day._

_Summary: Roisin is back for her second year, but what will happen with a lousy Defense teacher and a monster that has everyone blaming Slytherin House?_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

If nothing else, life at the Burrow was certainly different to that of Privet Drive or the Keep.

Mrs. Weasley was quite the mother-hen, and nowhere in the house was quiet for very long. Almost everything was very obviously magical, a direct opposition to Privet Drive, where Petunia refused to tolerate anything out of the ordinary, such as running around and loud noises while inside, and even Disney movies like _Cinderella _and_ Sleeping Beauty_ were banned, on account of containing magic.

Admittedly, Roisin could name several of the Clan who were just as 'Mother-Hen' as Mrs. Weasly, but they were a bit more discreet about it, rather than loudly fussing over every detail, and there was no way that a mirror would be allowed to yell something like '_fix your hair, scruffy'_ at the Keep. If you failed to keep up a decent appearance, the teasing from your age group/friends/family/etc. would quickly make you fix the problem, and the embarrassment tended to ensure that you seldom made the same mistake twice.

Roisin still harbored a large dose of paranoia concerning the Weasly Twins, especially when loud explosions could be heard from their room, but it was nice to see that they would prank their siblings rather than risk their mother's wrath for pranking a guest. What Roisin found most amusing, was the Weasely girl, Ginny, whose crush on Harry was about the size of Hogwarts, if not larger.

The poor girl could barely look at Harry without blushing, and if he paid even the slightest bit of attention to her, even asking her to pass the potatoes at dinner, she would do something like stick her elbow in the butter dish before collecting herself enough to fulfill the request.

It was amusing, but also somewhat annoying. As the only girls in the dwelling, Roisin was temporarily sharing a room with Ginny, and was therefore bombarded with Questions About Harry at every opportunity. It made her long for her cousins, Seamus and Mary. Starting Hogwarts this year, at least their constant questions were mostly limited to that.

Honestly, how was she meant to know what color underwear Harry liked? Or how long he spent in the shower every morning? Roisin had never even read the many contradictory books about the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, so how was she supposed to know what was true or false? She was only a few months older than Harry when it happened, anyway, so what guarantee that she even remembered properly?

It didn't do to be rude to One's host, however, so Roisin just tried to avoid Ginny whenever possible.

* * *

Fortunately, Roisin did not stay at the Burrow long. The second day there, Roisin, Harry and the Weaslys were eating dinner outside when they were besieged by owls, who dropped their letters in a neat pile next to Roisin, then perched on a nearby bush.

Looking at the Weasleys, who looked somewhat startled, Roisin asked to be excused for a moment. Reading at the table (except for right before an End Of Year Exam) was bad manners, after all.

The first letter was from Fionna, who stated that everyone had been worried about her and that she would be arriving at Ottery St Catchpole the very next day (Friday). Fionna mentioned nothing about her son and daughter-in-law, but Roisin had a feeling that there was going to be a lot of trouble for Dursleys in the near future.

The second letter was from Desdemona, who started with a long rant on 'those wretched idiot who had nothing better to do than send their House-Elf to bother people', her sympathy that she was with the Weasleys, and an offer to get everyone together and do something to retrieve her, then inform her that the group would be meeting at Diagon Alley on the Wednesday the 17th of August (Today was Thursday the 5th), and that she was welcome at Moon Mansion (Desdemona's home) at any time.

The other letters were mostly variants on the same; indignation that she had been cut off from communication and offers to stay with them.

Blaise was back from Italy, and offered his commiserations on suffering through the presence of blood-relatives. Roisin thought that it wasn't quite the same thing, other than the exasperating fact that you just had to put up with it, but she appreciated the thought.

Crabbe and Goyle surprised her, waxing almost eloquent in their outrage at whoever had sent the House-Elf, whereas, in a dramatic twist, Draco was reduced to almost incoherent ranting for several paragraphs (apparently using a dictation quill) before calming down. Pansy and Theo were livid, while Millicent was cold and calculating.

While she certainly wouldn't intervene on it's behalf, Roisin almost felt sorry for the House-Elf, whoever it was.

The letters were reassuring, and Roisin was smiling by the time she had finished. Dinner was over by then, and while the Weasly children were clearing up, Roisin took the opportunity to inform the Weasley parents that her Grandmother would be arriving the next day to take her home. They had been slightly upset, perhaps taking it as a slight against their hospitality, but accepted her decision to go.

* * *

Roisin was bouncing around all of the next day, until Fionna arrived just before lunch.

Roisin ran upstairs to get her trunk, dodging Ginny on the way down, then said good-bye to Harry and thanked the Weasleys for their hospitality. Fionna held out the portkey, and they were off to the Keep.

Staggering slightly as she arrived, Roisin was immediately bowled over by Seamus, Mary and Erin, helped up by Aiden, and bustled off to her room amid fussing by Nessa.

Answering several questions about how she was feeling and assuring Nessa that she was no worse for wear (the abrupt order to return to England and resulting lack of communication had had them worried), Roisin smiled. It was good to be home.

* * *

The rest of the Holidays progressed fairly normally, and it was with a bright spirit that Roisin and Fionna, accompanied by Nessa, Michael, Seamus and Mary, port keyed to the designated portkey area of Diagon Alley.

Arriving, they were met by Desdemona, who was trying to ignore her own brother, Mercutio and Millicent, who was looking amused at Desdemona's plight. Roisin could sympathize with both. She was likely to have Seamus and Mary following her half the time, and she agreed with Millicent that it was an amusing change to see _Desdemona_ ready to yank her hair out in frustration. Usually it was the other way around, with the other students in Slytherin House reduced to boundless frustration when dealing with Desdemona in a particularly active mood.

The three girls would be meeting the rest of their friends outside Gringotts. Millicent's parents had been called into the Ministry on short notice, but had allowed her to go to Diagon Alley anyway, as she would be with her friends.

Leaving the portkey point, they started making their way to Gringotts. They passed a sign about a book-signing in Flourish and Botts, and decided that that would be the last stop, unless they wanted all of the shops to be shut before they managed to fight their way out.

Reaching Gringotts, they met up with the others, and temporarily separated. The Gringotts carts could only hold so many, and the last thing _anyone_ wanted was to be squished with too many people while being driven at break-neck speed by a smirking goblin. Especially if one of the people with you was prone to motion sickness.

Besides, Desdemona loved high speeds, for some reason, and being confined in a small area with an excited Desdemona was a situation to be avoided.

The O'Conners went together, while Desdemona and Mercutio went with their parents and Millicent, who wore a faintly martyred expression as she was dragged off. Draco went with Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy and her mother. Draco's father apparently had business in one alley, and then deposited Draco at Gringotts while Lucius went to collect something from an associate. He would rejoin them when he returned.

Theo and Blaise also shared a cart with their parents. Theo's mother was pale, and Roisin had the impression that she didn't do well in cart rides.

A very swift cart ride with three stops at separate vaults, and they were back in the lobby. Fionna saw her friend Mrs. Longbottom, and went over to chat. Roisin looked around to see if any of her friends had re-emerged. Michael and Nessa took the twins off for robes and wands and other supplies. They would meet Roisin and Fionna at _Flourish and Blotts_ in an hour and a half.

Theo and Blaise arrived first, and Roisin's suspicions were confirmed. Mrs. Nott looked decidedly green, and Mr. Nott led her to a small café nearby, leaving the boys to their own devices. The others also re-appeared in short order and they set off down the alley. Pansy's mother had to do a bit of shopping of her own, and Desdemona's parents took Mercutio to buy his own school supplies, leaving the Second Years to their own devices.

* * *

The first stop was the Apocathary, to refill potions supplies, and then the _Literacy Store_, to stock up on quills and parchment. They took a short break at the ice-cream shop, treating themselves to a late-morning snack. With little else to do until they had to meet the others at the Book Shop, the group wandered around, admiring broomsticks and Quidditch equipment, the latest style of robes, some fascinating artifacts in an antique shop, and giving _Gambol and Japes _a very wide berth when they spotted the Weasly Twins and their friend Lee Jordan stocking up on pranks.

Finally, they met up at the _Flourish and Blotts_, where they were joined by Draco's father, and Roisin got her first good look at Lucius Malfoy. He looked very much like an older version of Draco, but a lot more dangerous. To those who knew him, Draco was about as terrifying as a wounded Chihuahua. Mr Malfoy looked as though threats were beneath him, but yes, yes he _could _back those warnings up with action.

Looking again at the sign outside the bookstore, Roisin sighed in exasperation, reading it aloud to her friends, all of whom looked equally annoyed.

_GILDEROY LOCKHART  
__Will be signing copies of his autobiography  
__MAGICAL ME  
__Today 12:30 to 4:30 p.m._

A few of the Sixth- and Seventh-Year girls from last year had spent a few months sighing over him, proclaiming him the 'best thing since sliced bread', as her mother would say. The boys and the remaining girls of their respective years had denounced him as a useless pillock with delusions of mediocrity. Roisin didn't have the facts to judge, but tended to side with Millicent's opinion: that anyone who spent so much time flattering himself on paper that he barely managed to explain the spells that he used probably wasn't much of a wizard.

Picking up a shopping cauldron, Roisin glanced over her book list again. It didn't take long to locate _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two_, but the rest was just exasperating! She looked over at Millicent, "Tell me again why we have to get the entire series? We can't possibly need seven books for only one class!"

Millicent shrugged. "The new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher must be one obsessive fan. Mum was in the same class as him, and she says that he was a completely useless ponce with an over-inflated ego."

Draco made a derisive nose, drawing a look of disapproval from his father. "I should say so. I was doing research for my Defense essay over the holidays, and half of it directly contradicts the rubbish that Lockhart is going on about."

Pansy was leafing through one of the books, an incredulous look on her face. "Definitely. He spends more time talking about himself and how great he is than he does explaining how he fought the various monsters!"

They were distracted by a loud commotion as they fought their way through the crowd to the counter. Turning to look, Roisin saw a blond man with un-naturally shiny teeth dragging an obviously very reluctant Harry up to stand near him.

Ignoring Harry's struggles to get away, he started giving a speech about how wonderful he was. Roisin tried to ignore him at first, but started paying attention again when she heard Theo's horrified gasp. "…That he would soon be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride to announce that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The claps and cheers from the crowd managed to drown out the Slytherin girls' collective wail of despair.

The continued fighting their way through the crowd, deliberately knocking over a stack of Lockhart's autobiographies, and had just paid when yet another commotion started up near the entrance. Roisin sighed: Draco and Harry had caught sight of each other and were headed for a confrontation. Worse still, the adults that should have been stopping them were too busy exchanging barbs to intervene.

Shoving their way back through the crowd, the reached the scene of impending pandemonium just as Arthur Weasley threw himself at Lucius Malfoy, knocking him down and straight into a bookshelf. Hundreds of books tumbled down around them and the area dissolved into chaos. The Weasley Twins were cheering their father on, more quietly aided by their sister, while the shop assistant and Mrs. Weasley shrieked for them to stop it.

Then Hagrid was wading through the crowd, picking them up like rag-dolls and forcibly separating them. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip, and Mr. Malfoy's eye was swelling spectacularly from where he had been hit by an encyclopedia of something. (Roisin couldn't make out the rest of the title.)

That put a fairly quick end to the shopping trip, unfortunately, and the Second Years were soon splitting up to return to their respective homes. The O'Conners enjoyed a late lunch at the _Leaky Cauldron_, before making their way back to the Port key area to get back to the Keep.

Waiting in line for the area to clear, Roisin closed her eyes. Seamus and Mary still hadn't stopped talking about everything they had done and all the spells they wanted to try when they returned home. Roisin resolved to stay out of their way, and warn everyone else that the twins were now considered armed, as well as dangerous to One's continued mental health.

* * *

The remainder of the holidays flew by, and before anyone knew it, it was September 1st, and time to go to Hogwarts. Roisin was not in the best of moods, having been woken up in what she considered the ungodly hours of the morning by the twins, who wanted her to help them search for anything they had forgotten. Ignoring her protests that Nessa could just owl anything they had forgotten, and that they should have done all of this last night, Roisin had been dragged out of bed, which had put her in something of a sharp mood.

Finally, they reached Platform 9 and ¾, and Roisin was more than ready to locate her friends, lock the compartment door, and sleep through the train ride. Fionna, Michael and Nessa hugged all three of them, and lamented (as parents will) that they would not see them for Samhain, but it fell on a weekend next year, so maybe they could petition the Headmaster to let them come home then.

Then they were on the train and finding compartments. Thankfully for everyone's sanity, they found the Second Year Slytherin's compartment easily, and Seamus and Mary went off with Desdemona's brother Mercutio. They talked about different things for an hour or so, mainly comparing homework and what they thought might be in the Second Year Curriculum. The food trolley came by, accompanied by a witch that Roisin had always thought was far too cheerful for being forced to travel the entire train full of students.

After eating, they settled back down, and despite her best efforts, Roisin fell asleep on Blaise's shoulder.

She woke up about five minutes from the station, leaving her just enough time to pull on her robes and find the twins. Directing them to Hagrid, Roisin joined her friend at the Horseless carriages, looking around for Harry, who Draco had complained about not being around to taunt on the train.

Failing to spot him, Roisin shrugged. Oh well, he had probably just caught one of the carriages before her. She would see him at the feast.

* * *

Harry was not at the feast, however, and neither was Ron Weasley, who usually wasn't far away from him. A glance at the fuming Prefect Weasly showed that he had no idea either, and when the last of the students were trickling in, with still no sign of Harry, Roisin decided that enough was enough.

Slipping away from her friends for a few minutes, Roisin made her way to the High Table, specifically Professor Snape. Harry and Professor Snape didn't get along very well, in fact Roisin would go so far as to say they hated each other, but he was one of the few teachers who would actually listen to a Slytherin's concerns.

Professor Snape assured her that he would take care of it, and suggested that Roisin go and rejoin her friends, as the sorting was about to start. Roisin did so, and had just taken her seat when the doors opened and Professor McGonagall led the First Years in.

Understandably, they looked nervous, but mostly tried to pretend otherwise when they saw the Sorting Hat. Roisin wondered what ridiculous story about the Sorting was being spread around this year. Last year had been that they had to wrestle a troll. Hopefully the perpetrator had come up with something more believable this time. Scanning the line to make sure that Seamus and Mary had arrived safely (those two could find trouble in an empty room) Roisin blinked when she saw the distinctive red hair and freckles of Ginny Weasley. Hm, Roisin hadn't known that she was starting this year, but then, she hadn't paid much attention to Ginny at all, much less to her age.

Professor McGonagall placed a stool and the Sorting Hat in front of the dais where the Head table stood. Glancing at the table, Roisin blinked when she found Professor Snape to be absent. When had he disappeared?

Her attention was returned to the First Years when the Sorting Hat opened its brim and began to sing:

_In ages past, when times were bleak,  
__The four Founders made a vow.  
__Four great people would leave a mark,  
__In this school that stands here now.  
__A thousand years, these walls have stood,  
__A place for young children to learn,  
__The power they hold and legends long told,  
__Great names, themselves, they would earn.  
__But how to teach? There were not enough  
__Instructors to teach them all apart.  
__Four Houses they made, to sort boy and maid,  
__With traits each held close to their heart.  
__Gryffindor bold thought Courage was best,  
__And Valor, and the strength to stand fast.  
__Such ideals he sought, in the students he taught,  
__In times gone and ages long past.  
__Shrewd Slytherin always valued ambition and wiles,  
__With the wits and will to rise and succeed.  
_"_Ruthless and cunning," he vowed, "my house will stand proud!"  
__He and his students would live by this creed.  
__Clever Ravenclaw thought highly of wisdom,  
__Of learning and the desire to know.  
_"_Clever and wise," her eagle still cries,  
_"_This my children will learn as they grow.  
__Hufflepuff loved loyalty, and fairness in all,  
__And thought 'easy' was worth naught in the end.  
_"_House will be family," Gentle Hufflepuff claimed,  
_"_Blessed are those who call my children 'friend'!"  
__The Founders are gone, but their houses still stand,  
__And these qualities still each hold as true.  
__My task it is now, to decide where you go,  
__Which house will suit each of you best.  
__Slytherin or Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor,  
__Just sit down and let me do the rest._

She paid little attention to the Sorting, listening with half an ear to her friends whispers of who belonged to which family, or speculation on if someone was a half-blood or Muggle-born. A small but very excitable boy by the name of Colin Creevy was sorted into Gryffindor, where one of the older students had to actually hold him down in his seat for the rest of the Sorting.

Mercutio went to Ravenclaw, drawing little more than a shrug from Desdemona before she leaned over to pat him on the back. (Ravenclaw table was next to Slytherin) Apparently the Moon family had a long tradition of both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but didn't particularly mind which one their child was sorted into.

Mary joined Roisin at the Slytherin table with no small amount of relief, but the real surprise was when Seamus went to Gryffindor. Seamus was frequently reckless, and often favored brains over common sense, but Roisin had expected the twins to be together. She clapped for him nevertheless, prompting the shocked Gryffindors to do the same. They weren't about to be shown up by a rotten Slytherin!

Weasley, Ginerva (Roisin and several other snickered, what kind of a name was that?) also went to Gryffindor, to no-ones surprise. Apparently every Weasly in the last several generations had gone to Gryffindor.

The Sorting Hat had just been taken away when Roisin noticed Professor Snape re-enter and say something to Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall's mouth went very thin, causing the few that were paying attention to wince, a thin mouth was never a good sign, and she followed him out as Dumbledore stood up to give his speech.

Much of Slytherin House turned to speculation of where Professors Snape and McGonagall had gone and why, only escalating when the Headmaster followed them as soon as he finished speaking.

The three Professors returned about half way through the meal, and Professor Snape gave Roisin a barely perceptible nod. Roisin sighed in relief, Harry was found and safe, although probably in a very large amount of trouble.

Dessert came and went and as the last of the Puddings vanished, Dumbledore stood up again, announcing that it was time to sing the school anthem. Many of the First Years looked eager, but the older students cringed. Mary, who loved singing, gave Roisin a puzzled look, to which Roisin shook her head.

A long ribbon flew out of Dumbledore's wand and twisted into words. Mary lit up and started to sing to the tune of 'The Wild Rover.

Choosing 'The Fields of Athenry' as her own tune, Roisin winced again at the sound of a thousand voices bellowing. Mary had a wonderful voice, but it couldn't compete with the multitude of others who had apparently failed to grasp the concept of carrying a tune.

Not that she could talk. No matter what her mother might say, singing had never been one of Roisin's talents.

* * *

Mercifully, it was over quickly, and Roisin caught a few Seventh Years offering up a prayer of thanks that they would never have to listen to that travesty again. Lucky gits.

Mary and Seamus waved to each other as the First Years were all led away by their prefects, the rest of the Houses following. The path down to the dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room and Dorms seemed longer this year, although it could have been because Peeves had been running around extinguishing torches, which made the going significantly slower.

The password for this week was _Purity Above All_, and there were several noises of delight and awe as the wall slid aside to reveal the Slytherin Common Room. Stifling yawns, the Second Years and up made their way to the Dorms as the prefects gave the First Years a much abbreviated version of how Slytherin worked, promised to explain the rest at orientation the next morning, and showed them to their Dorm rooms.

Entering her shared room and looking around the familiar setting, Roisin smiled. It was good to be back.

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___A/N: So, what did everyone think? Was it good? Bad? Average? The Sorting Song was harder than I expected, How did I do?_

_Anyway, take thirty seconds to leave a review. What do you think should happen next? How will the Slytherins fare in Second Year classes, especially with Lockhart?_

_Thanks,  
__Nathalia_


	16. Lessons and Lockhart

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter. Do we really have to go through this every time?  
Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

Being woken up by a hyperactive Desdemona was amusing once or twice, but got very old very quickly.

For this reason, Roisin tried to be at least awake before Desdemona was, and set her alarm for 6:45. Stumbling into the bathroom, she quickly made for the shower.

There is a universal rule that if two or more people share a bathroom, once the clock chimed 8:00 in the morning, hot water becames a rare commodity. When almost two hundred people share fourteen bathrooms, you have to get up even earlier.

Washing up and brushing her teeth, Roisin walked back into her shared room in time to see Desdemona placing Pansy's alarm, set to go off in thirty seconds, next to the blonde girl's ear.

Deciding to stay out of it, Roisin pulled out her robes and quickly dressed, trying to ignore Pansy screaming at Desdemona and a half-awake Millicent stumbling around. Dodging an irate and badly-aimed pillow, she quickly made her way down to the Common Room.

Professor Snape was there already, and how he managed to look so awake this early in the morning was anyone's guess. She knew that an account from Professor Snape concerning anything to do with Harry Potter would be nowhere near impartial, but she wanted the details of what her danger-prone cousin had managed to do _this_ time, before she went to find him. Professor McGonagall wasn't there, so Roisin braced herself and walked over to ask. "Professor Snape? What happened to Harry and Ron last night?"

Professor Snape sighed. "Your idiot cousin and his red-haired sidekick managed to get their hands on a car that was enchanted to fly and had the bright idea to drive it to Hogwarts when they missed the train. They then crashed into the Whomping Willow on the grounds before managing to sneak inside." He looked at Roisin's expression, "Unfortunately, they suffered no lasting consequences for their misdeeds, Miss O'Conner. I wish you would wait for one of your friends to go with you, but you may go and seek Potter out now if you wish."

Roisin smiled. Let the other houses heap scorn and hatred, Slytherin would never regard Professor Snape with anything less than respect as their protector. "Thank you, Professor. Pansy and Desdemona are having a debate about appropriate waking methods, but should be down on time."

Roisin walked out of the Common Room in a calm and graceful manner. Once outside, her bearing shifted into a determined stride as she made a bee line for Gryffindor Tower. Harry was _so_ going to get it.

* * *

Reaching a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress, Roisin folded her arms and leaned back against the wall.

She didn't have to wait long. Harry exited the tower, surrounded by the other boys in his year. The group of five skidded to a halt at the sight of her. Weasley got over his shock first. Roisin wished he would take a few seconds to engage his brain before opening his mouth. "What are you doing here, Slytherin? Come to spy on us? How did you find our Common Room in the first place?"

Roisin gave him a flat look. "In reverse order: You learn a lot by observation, try it sometime, instead of blurting out whatever pops into your head. If I wanted to spy on you, there are far better ways than waiting outside your door for everyone to see. I want to talk to you and Harry about what happened last night."

Harry sighed in resignation. Roisin didn't change her expression, but inwardly smirked. He decided to just tell her and get it over with, which meant that she didn't need to come up with something creative to trick it out of him. "You know the barrier to the platform? It sealed itself shut just before we went through. Mr. and Mrs. Weasely were stuck on the other side, but we needed to get to Hogwarts, so we took Mr. Weasly's car."

Roisin raised a sardonic eyebrow. "And Hedwig vanished into thin air, did she? You could have just waited for the Weasley's to come back and then taken the Floo to Hogwarts, or something."

Harry winced. "That's sort of what Professor McGonagall said. We accidentally crashed into the Whomping Willow and got caught by Snape when we were coming in and he brought Dumbledore and McGonagall"

Roisin decided that now was probably not the best time to mention that she had been the one to alert Professor Snape to their absence. "You've probably been scolded enough, then. In that case, I'm glad that you're still in one piece, and I'll see you in whichever class we have together next. I need to get down to breakfast before the others send out a search party and Pansy tries to kill Desdemona for the wake-up call this morning."

Harry joined her as she started to walk off. His aunt and uncle may have only been disappointed that the Willow hadn't squashed him flat, it was nice to know that Roisin still worried about his safety, and cared enough to find Gryffindor Tower rather that wait to see if he showed up at breakfast.

Ron hesitated for a few seconds, pondering the morality of being seen with a Slytherin, and then hurried after them. Better walking with a Slytherin than sticking around to be caught by Percy.

* * *

Reaching the Great Hall, Roisin left Harry at the Gryffindor table, waved at Mary and Seamus, who were blatantly ignoring House Boundaries by sitting together, and re-joined the Slytherin Second Years. Draco looked up a bit _too _eagerly. "What happened? Are Potter and Weasley in 'more trouble than they can possibly comprehend', like Professor Snape was muttering?"

Roisin buttered a piece of toast. "Pass the eggs please, Vince." Crabbe obediently handed Roisin the plate, "I don't know how much trouble they are in, only that McGonagall and Dumbledore were informed, but if the incoming Howler is any indication, I think we are about to find out."

A raggedy owl flew to the Gryffindor table and crashed, dropping a letter in front of Ron Weasley, who turned pale enough to be seen from two tables over. Several of the surrounding Gryffindors edged away as the envelope began to smoke.

With a look of looming trepidation, Ron opened the Howler, which he immediately dropped as it started shouting loud enough to shake the walls. Most of the Hall clapped their hands over their ears, and a few stragglers who had just entered quickly left. Mrs. Weasley had lost none of her volume, and the Howler only magnified her voice.

"STEALING THE CAR! I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU! YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK OF WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE FOUND THE CAR WAS GONE!..."

Roisin winced. Yes, she would have been surprised if Mrs. Weasley hadn't sent _something,_ but couldn't she have toned it down just a bit?

"…LETTER FROM DUMBLEDOR LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME! WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY BOTH COULD HAVE DIED!..."

Roisin winced again. The O'Conner Clan didn't believe in public embarrassment via Howlers, so the twins had never experienced one. Mary and Seamus had decided that Gryffindor was currently not the best place to be, and both were now clinging to their cousin, rather too tightly, shell-shocked. Yes, Howlers were enough to scare you badly if you didn't know what they were, but she wished the twins would loosen the death-grip.

"…ABSOLUTLY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

Silence fell with a very audible 'thud' as the Howler burst into flames and burned to ashes. The twins loosened their grip on Roisin, but made no indication of leaving. A few muffled (and not so muffled) laughs broke out, and conversation in the hall gradually resumed. The Heads of Houses were coming, handing out timetables, assisted by prefects. Seamus was shooed back to Gryffindor to collect his timetable and the Second Years looked to see what they had first. Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, and McGonagall was probably still in a bad mood from yesterday.

Oh, Well. Best to get it over with quickly. The Second Year Slytherins gathered their belongings and headed off.

* * *

Indeed, Professor McGonagall was still in a bad mood, making her even more strict than usual as she gave a lecture on transfiguring beetles into buttons, then set them to work. It was difficult, as the beetles didn't _want _to be transfigured and kept running around, making them hard to hit. They eventually managed it, though, and even Crabbe and Goyle managed to make their beetles flat and symmetrical, even if they did still have antennae. Roisin had had a small mishap, accidentally turning the beetle into a cloak-clasp, but finally turned her next try into a proper black button.

Theo did the best, smugly producing a decorated brass button that wouldn't have looked out of place on a dress uniform in high society.

* * *

After Transfiguration was Herbology, again with the Ravenclaws. Walking across the lawn to the greenhouses, Millicent nearly crashed into Padma Patil when she stopped suddenly, pointing to a heavily bandaged Whomping Willow, most of its branches in slings. The laughter quickly died at Professor Sprout's expression, and they entered Greenhouse Three.

Today they worked with Mandrakes, a tufty looking plant with roots that looked like very ugly miniature people, with a cry fatal to any who heard it. As they were only seedlings, the Mandrakes would only knock them out for a few hours, and looked like very ugly infants, screaming at the top of their lungs as they were re-potted.

Thankfully, the students had all been issued with ear-muffs beforehand, although they could have done with less pink-and-fluffy ones, so there were no real problems with re-potting them.

There was a very interesting period when a not - as - intellegent - as - One - might - have - thought Ravenclaw (how Michael Corner made it into the brainy house, no one knew) used the wrong fertilizer, causing the half-potted Mandrake to break free and throw up what looked like some kind of very muddy water and smelled worse than a swamp.

* * *

After Herbology, the Slytherins quickly made their way down to their dorms, where they dropped off their Transfiguration and Herbology books, quickly showered and changed out of their messed robes, collected all seven Defense Against the Dark Arts books and ran back up to lunch, where Roisin spotted Mary and Seamus braving the Gryffindor table again. Eating as fast as politely possible in the fifteen minutes they had left, the Slytherins were treated to a sulky looking Ron muttering about a broken wand, trying to ignore the 'I-told-you-so' look coming from Hermione Granger.

Remembering the scene from Flourish and Blotts, and whatever else they knew about Lockhart from hearsay and their own research, none of the Slytherins were looking forward to Defense, and dawdled as long as possible.

They couldn't delay it forever, though, and eventually dragged themselves up to the Defense classroom, just in time to see Harry being cornered by an excitable-looking Gryffindor First Year with a camera, who was apparently asking if he could have a signed photo of Harry, who looked as though he would rather have another round with the Whomping Willow.

Roisin barely listened to the exchange of taunts between Draco and her cousin anymore, and only sighed in exasperation, slipping inside the classroom just as "Professor" Lockhart came out to make even more of a scene.

The rest of the class came in a few moments later, finally followed by Harry, who was red enough to fry an egg on his face, and Lockhart, who looked as disgustingly cheerful as ever.

Hermione Granger was paying rapt attention, and the other Gryffindor girls were giggling, but the Slytherins tuned Lockhart out as he started talking about all the awards he had won. Next to Roisin, Desdemona was doing an admirable job of restraining herself from pointing out that none of them cared how many times he'd been in Witch Weekly.

Well, Desdemona's version of restraint was muttering darkly under her breath, but given that Desdemona had never been shy in airing her opinions for the world to hear, Roisin would take whatever given value of subdued that she could get.

They started paying attention again out of necessity when Lockhart dropped a test paper in front of them, only to stare blankly at the questions on the sheet.

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite colour?_

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

_What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

The questions continued on, over two more sheets of parchment, until number fifty-two: _When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

The next desk over, Theo and Blaise were making strangled, choking noises. On the other side, Pansy and Millicent wore expressions of pure horror. Roisin narrowed her eyes. If Lockhart wanted a test to see what they thought of him, then that's what she'd give him.

Poking Desdemona with her quill, Roisin started to write. After a quick glance at Roisin's paper, Desdemona did the same, both girls smirking evilly.

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite colour?  
_**I don't know, nor do I care.**

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?  
_**To eventually move out of his mother's basement, as she is too ashamed to have him around when anyone might see.**

_What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?  
_**Managing to walk and talk at the same time, without overloading the few brain cells he actually possesses.**

_When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?  
_**April 1****st****, when someone inflicted him as a cruel joke on the rest of the world, which now has to put up with him. I don't know about him, but my gift that day would be the strongest alcohol I can find, in the hopes of forgetting that he exists. **

Behind her, Roisin could hear Draco quietly snickering as he peeked at her answers, then the scratching of his quill as he scribbled down his own.

When the half hour was up, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them. His face darkened for a few moments and he shot a nasty look at Roisin and Desdemona, who were failing miserably at hiding their amusement at his expense. "Miss O'Conner, did you even open your books? My greatest ambition is most certainly not to move out of my parent's basement."

This prompted laughter from the Slytherins and even a few Gryffindors, causing Lockhart to frown. "Miss Moon, five points from Slytherin. My greatest achievement to date is not learning which end of a wand to use, and that knowledge did not come '_after several years of accidentally hexing himself stupid if he didn't have someone to hold his hand through the casting'."_

More laughter from everyone except the Gryffindor girls, and Harry shot both of them a wide grin. Lockhart's 'Most Charming Smile' was struggling to stay on. "And many of you need to take another look at _Year with a Yeti_. I clearly state that my favorite colour is lilac."

Roisin went back to ignoring him as he continued talking about their performance as a whole on the test. A ball of paper landed on her desk from Dean Thomas, who was a blossoming artist. It depicted Lockhart on the ground being beaten over the head with a pile of test papers. A distinct likeness of of a dark-haired girl in Slytherin green stood over him victoriously, while a crowd of onlookers, bearing a remarkable resemblance to the rest of their class, cheered her on.

Catching his eye, Roisin grinned, then passed the paper to Desdemona, who clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle uproarious laughter, and threw it to Pansy and Millicent, who were also very obviously amused. Dean returned the grin and whispered to his desk-partner, Seamus Finnigan, who was at risk of going into convulsions of silent laughter.

Attention was drawn back to the front of the class when Lockhart lifted a covered cage onto the desk. "Now, be warned, it is my task to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room…"

He was cut off by a loud whisper from Blaise, made to carry. "What, you've managed to clone yourself?"

Lockhart gave the Italian boy a dark look, to which Blaise retaliated with an impudent grin, and continued. "Know only that no harm can befall you while I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Seamus Finnigan had stopped laughing now, and Neville Longbottom was cowering in his seat. Theo looked skeptical. Harry was obviously of the opinion that he and Lockhart had very different ideas of the danger levels of these 'foul creatures' and 'worst fears'.

"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said in a low voice, "It might provoke them."

The Slytherins were holding their breath in anticipation of how Lockhart was going to make an idiot of himself this time. From the size of the cage and the fluttering noise of what sounded like tiny wings, the only possibilities that they could immediately think of were pixies, fairies or doxies, which would only be dangerous if they got loose. Pixies and doxies were vulnerable to hexes and curses, and fairies could be subdued by asking them to act as an ornament.

Roisin smirked. Convincing them to form a crown of fairies and settle on Ron Weasley's head for the day would be fun, and highly amusing for any bystanders. Besides, she owed him for the 'spying Slytherin' suspicion that morning.

The Slytherins were right, it turned out to be Cornish Pixies. As Seamus Finnigan pointed out, they weren't exactly dangerous. Lockhart wagged a finger at him. "Don't be so sure. Devilishly tricky little buggers they can be."

He looked around the classroom, deflating slightly as the Second Years looked decidedly un-impressed. "Right then," he said loudly, "Lets see what you make of them!"

He threw the cage door open. Pandemonium ensured.

The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two started to drag Neville Longbottom into the air by his ears. Others shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest set about trashing the classroom more effectively than the proverbial bull in the china shop.

They grabbed inkbottles and threw them around the room, covering unlucky students with ink. They shredded books and paper and threw pictures and bags out the window. A wastebasket was upended over Lockhart's head as he shouted for them not to panic. Brandishing his wand, he shouted '_Peskipisi Pesternomi!_''

It did absolutely nothing. A pixie grabbed Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window. Blaise later insisted that he had seen the pixie roll its eyes as Lockhart whimpered and dived under his desk.

Roisin was glad she had left her previous books and notes back in the Slytherin dorms as she ducked a swarm of pixies, then picked up _Voyages with Vampires_ and threw it at them. It hit three of the pixies, who dropped to the floor, out cold. The rest grabbed the book and started ripping it apart. Other students started catching on and throwing their books, which worked until they ran out of books.

Thankfully, the bell rang at that moment, and the Slytherins dived out of the door, taking off at a run without bothering to see if the other students escaped.

* * *

Their last class of the day was a free period, and they spent it in the Common Room, telling everyone who passed about their Defense lesson. The Seventh Years, who had class with him that morning, loaned credibility to their words, and the 'warning' quickly turned into vivid re-enactments of the class, with the Seventh Years using more advanced spells to provide the special effects.

Anyone passing near the Slytherin Common Room would have paused at the sound of laughter echoing through the dungeons. Inside the Common Room, however, the Slytherins couldn't have cared less.

If it had half the school laughing at the blond idiot when they found out, that was just too everyone of Lockhart's incompetence was for a good cause.

The fact that Slytherins were hardly known for their good deeds, and were fully intent on humiliating Lockhart in the process didn't matter in the slightest.

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_A/N: The next chapter is up! It may be a few weeks until the chapter after this, as I have my TAFE Practical Work Placement coming up, and as I wish to pass the course, I will have less time to write._

_As always, I hope you enjoyed and would love for you to leave a review telling me what you think._

_Thanks,  
__Nat_


	17. Messages and Misgivings

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter. Do we really have to go through this every time?  
Summary: See previous chapters. I'm getting sick of typing it up every time._

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

The first week passed relatively without incident, if you didn't count Ron Weasley's wand turning into something of a Health Hazard. It would fizzle or let out alarming amounts of black smoke, and more than one student, not only in Slytherin, seemed to find an endless source of amusement in goading Ron into casting something, then sitting back to watch the results from a safe distance.

They also counted themselves lucky that Harry and Hermione were good enough friends with the red-head that they were willing to partner him, which meant that no-one else had to.

It wasn't until the weekend, however, that anything really happened. This year's Quidditch fans had been talking about when matches would start up, try-outs having been held the first day back, before anyone would think of spying, and Draco had seemed very smug and sure that he would be the new Slytherin Seeker.

On Saturday, the rest of the House found out why. The Slytherin Team came back from their first practice gloating about the new Nimbus 2001 that each member had received. It appeared that Lucius Malfoy had bought them upon his son being made the Slytherin Seeker, although Draco had earned the position by his own merit. Flint was a Quidditch Fanatic, and nothing would have stopped him from holding fair try-outs, ambition and bribery or not.

The other reason for gloating was the way that they had been able to kick the Gryffindors off the pitch that morning. They had waited a while to observe the Gryffindor training and make a dramatic entrance, and there had been more than one comment on how the Gryffindors should have thanked them for kicking them off, as everyone except Wood looked ready to drop.

Other interesting bits involved Ron Weasley trying to Hex Draco to make him belch slugs and have the spell backfire, and accidentally-on-purpose knocking out the irritating first-year, Colin Creevy, with a bludger.

At least Harry would have a few days without the little idiot following him around all the time.

* * *

Potions was fun, as usual, though Transfigurations less so. Herbology continued with Mandrakes as an ongoing project, while they moved on to strangler figs, which really did try to strangle you if you got agitated. The trick was to remain calm. Charms also continued to be interesting, but ironically, Defense Against the Dark Arts was the most entertaining of all.

The Gryffindors suffered through it quietly, with their main questioner (Hermione) being too enamored with Lockhart to say anything, but the Slytherins found great enjoyment in reading through the books before-hand (It was easier if Roisin pretended that she was still a Muggle and this was a fairy-tale), finding all of the flaws, often with help from the nit-picking older years, and loudly pointing them out in class.

Lockhart did not find it nearly as funny as the students did.

* * *

October came, bringing with it a damp chill and a multitude of colds among the staff and students. It got to the point where one could go to Madam Pomfrey for a potions accident, and she would be reaching for a Pepper-up Potion as soon as you opened the door, before she had even looked at you or you had opened your mouth to say what was wrong.

It was fun watching a red-head take one, however. The smoke that poured out of a person's ears after taking the Potion gave the impression that their whole head was on fire. The red-head in question (often a Weasley) seldom found it as funny, (and it usually sent the Weasley Twins' pranks in a slightly more vicious direction) so it was safer to mock at a distance.

Raindrops the size of bullets pounded against the castle windows for days on end. The lake rose, turning the grounds and flowerbeds into muddy streams. Outdoor activities, with the exception of Quidditch Practice, came to a halt. The trips to and from Castle and Greenhouse for Herbology were taken at a run, and frequently had Argus Filch, the caretaker, complaining for hours about mud on the floor.

* * *

Halloween was fast approaching, however, along with the tri-annual cessation of hostilities between the four Houses to celebrate Samhain. A celebration of the harvest and the dead, the non-Christian students were cheerfully making their own preparations. Seamus and Mary had been disappointed that they would not be celebrating with their family this year, but were bouncing off the walls as the days before Samhain passed.

There would be a school-wide celebration of Halloween on the 31st of October, and then the students participating in Samhain would take November the 1st off. Many of the teachers would have preferred to just give everyone the day off, as the number of students who practiced Samhain added up to about a third of the school, meaning that they often had to teach the same lesson twice, but Dumbledore, for whatever reason, refused.

Still, the Great Hall was decorated spectacularly for Halloween, and one had to appreciate the effort, and resulting splendor, that had been put into it.

Unlike last year, there were no disruptions and pandemonium about trolls, and everything was fine as they ate, drank, and played tricks like banishing bats into Ravenclaw and (if you could aim well enough across two tables) Gryffindor's punch bowls and food platters. The resulting shrieks were always worth it.

It became somewhat less worth it when the two tables caught on to where the projectile bats were coming from and returned fire, but what was Hallowe'en without a few pranks? It was not until the Feast had ended and everyone was leaving that anything serious happened.

Roisin was held up by returning Seamus to the Gryffindor table (he had been sitting with Mary and Roisin at Slytherin) and his friends before leaving the Hall. Desdemona and Blaise had waited for her, and they were about to head back down to the dungeons when they saw a large commotion up ahead, a few stair-flights up. Following the rest of the crowd, they pushed their way to the front. To no surprise, Draco was already there, and the cause of the commotion was instantly apparent. Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, was hanging from a torch scone by her tail, stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. Worse than this, however, was the writing on the wall, between two windows: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!

Nearby, Selena gracefully fainted, collapsing into Tiberius's arms. Desdemona had gone pale, but was prevented from doing anything similar by Argus Filch charging past, shrieking about his cat being killed. Not wishing to be caught at the scene of the crime and scapegoat-ed, Blaise grabbed Draco, Roisin and Desdemona grabbed Pansy and Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle dutifully followed their example and grabbed Theo, and the Second Year Slytherins made themselves very scarce. They could just as easily get the information from their Housemates when everyone got back.

* * *

Mrs. Norris's Petrifaction was the talk of the school the next day, and Samhain preparations were taken even more seriously than usual. A night where magic was strongest and the veil between worlds the thinnest, students prayed to dead ancestors for protection and safety, casting the strongest protection charms and rituals that they knew. Seamus and Mary did not leave Roisin's side the entire night, and everyone stayed with at least one other person. Houses aside, nobody wanted to be alone.

The next day, however, they had to face reality again. House barriers went back up, and life went back to mostly normal. The attack was still the talk of the school, and Filch was keeping it fresh in everyone's mind. If he wasn't pacing the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked, sometimes trying to scrub off the message, then he was skulking through the halls, jumping out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention.

Considering that the main reasons were things like 'Breathing Loudly' or 'Looking Too Happy', the Slytherins just went to Professor Snape, who oversaw their detentions, which usually involved extra studying, rather than Filch's proposed punishments of hanging the students from the ceiling by their ankles.

* * *

Harry had been bearing the brunt of it, and with Hermione closeted in the library and Ron's complete lack of sensitivity, he had started to seek Roisin out to sit and talk somewhere out of the way.

This time, they had taken advantage of the lull in the rain and were sitting in the lower branches of an Ash tree. Harry sat with his back against the trunk, knees drawn up to his chest. "I don't get it, Roisin. I've had people looking at me and running in the opposite direction after what happened. Ron is acting like there is nothing to worry about and Hermione has to be hunted down and dragged out of the library for meals! Never mind talking or reassurance! Why does everyone suddenly think that I'm the Heir of Slytherin?"

Roisin was stretched out on the next branch over, head resting on her arms as she looked at him. "Draco's furious about that, by the way. Says that there's no way it could be you, and the rest of the House agrees. Shocking as it may sound, I sort of agree with Weasley. Just keep low for a while, and it will eventually blow over. Hermione will come out of the library eventually, and people will realize how stupid they are being. Your friends know that you aren't the Heir of Slytherin, and I _know_ that you are far too much of a Gryffindor for _that_ to be true, and that's all that really matters."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, until it was apparent that the rest of the castle was starting to stir. Harry leapt from his branch and landed in a graceful crouch. Roisin tried to imitate him and landed flat on her backside. Glaring at a visibly amused Harry, Roisin cast a quick cleaning charm that she had learned over the holidays, and they walked up to the castle together.

* * *

The next incident really worth mentioning happened in History of Magic, a surprise in and off itself.

History of Magic was well known for two things: being the most indescribably boring class in the school, and being the one Gryffindor-Slytherin class without any open or subdued hostility.

Professor Binns probably wouldn't have noticed anyway, but since almost every student slipped into a stupor about five minutes in, no-one was ever awake enough for hostilities, even a thrown ball of parchment, or indeed anything noteworthy to happen.

Until today.

Roisin and Desdemona were leaning against each other and trying not to fall asleep. The class was dull enough to keep even Desdemona quiet, a rare feat. Theo and Draco were passing rune puzzles in a desperate attempt to make time go faster. It wasn't working.

Millicent and Pansy had lost their battle and were quietly snoozing on their desks. Roisin had just decided that it really wasn't worth the effort to sit up and turn around to see what Crabbe and Goyle were doing when the unthinkable happened.

Professor Binns was interrupted by Hermione Granger waving her hand in the air. "Please, Professor, I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

This caused surprised reactions all over the classroom. Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off the desk, nearly sending him out of his chair. Dean Thomas stopped staring out of the window. Pansy and Millicent both sat up at the same time, cracking heads. Draco glared at Theo for accidentally dropping the stone Rune Puzzle on his foot.

Even Professor Binns looked startled. It was a safe bet that no-one had interrupted his lessons before. "My subject is History of Magic. I deal with _facts_, Miss Granger, not myths and legends!"

He started to continue, but stuttered to a halt when Hermione's arm started waving again. "Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Binns was staring at her in amazement, as was the rest of the class. Finally, a topic worth studying! If Hermione could just convince him to actually discuss it…

Perhaps she had succeeded! "Well," the History Professor said slowly, "yes, one could argue that. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_, even _ludicrous_ tale…"

It looked like Professor Binns was about to refuse, but he finally decided that such a unique, legendary event (his class hanging on to his every word) deserved an explanation of something just as legendary. "Oh, very well. Now, let me see, the Chamber of Secrets.

You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago – the exact date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after then: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

The Gryffindors were still in rapt silence, but the Slytherins glanced at each other quickly. There was not a family in Slytherin who had not lost a member to Witch Burnings, and even centuries later, it was still something of a sensitive topic.

Professor Binns was still talking. "For many years, the founders lived in harmony, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements began to spring up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magical families. He disliked the practice of accepting students of muggle heritage, believing them to be un-trustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused, pursing his lips as the class digested this part of the story. They continued to wait expectantly, eager to hear the rest.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said, "but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin built a hidden chamber, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none could open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. Slytherin's heir alone would be able to unlock the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and purge the school of all those unworthy to study magic."

There was complete silence as Professor Binns finished telling the story, but not the usual, sleepy silence that usually filled the room. The Gryffindors looked uneasy, but the Slytherins only exchanged neutral looks. Slytherin never showed weakness, so any worries about the subject were best discussed in the privacy of the Dorms or Common Room.

Professor Binns finally noticed that they were all still thinking about the Chamber of Secrets. He looked annoyed. "The whole story is complete nonsense, of course!" he said, "Naturally, the school has been searched for such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. The Chamber of Secrets does not exist! A tale to frighten the gullible!"

Hermione's hand was back in the air. Three actual questions in History of Magic! An unbeaten (not to mention probably unbeatable) record! "Sir – what do you mean by 'the horror within the Chamber'?"

"That is believed to be a terrible monster, which only the heir of Slytherin can control." Professor Binns's voice was returning to its dry, reedy drone.

The class exchanged nervous looks. Professor Binns noticed them. "I tell you, the thing does not exist! There is no Chamber and no monster!"

This only set the Gryffindors off. It started with Seamus Finnigan. "But sir, if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

Professor Binns did not seem pleased at the question. "Nonsense, O'Flaherty. If a long succession of Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses haven't found the thing –"

Now it was Parvati Patil. Maybe she wasn't such an airhead as rumor had it. "But Professor, you'd probably have to use dark magic to open it –"

An interesting idea worth pursuing, but slightly offensive that people automatically linked Slytherin to Dark Magic. By his tone of voice, Professor Binns just wanted to get them all to shut up. "Just because a person _doesn't_ use dark magic, Miss Pennyfeather, doesn't mean he _can't_. I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore –"

The History professor looked ready to crack as Dean Thomas interrupted him again. "But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't –"

Professor Binns had had enough. "That's enough!" he snapped. "There is no evidence that Slytherin built so much as a secret broom cupboard, let alone a Chamber! I regret telling you such a ridiculous story! We will, if you please, return to _history_. To solid, believable, verifiable _fact_!"

Despite protests, that was his last word, and within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual stupor.

* * *

It was with great relief that the class ended, and the Slytherins forced their way through the halls to their Common Room. History was their last class for the day, so they would have time to discuss this in private. It was a fair bit to take in.

Settled again in the Boys Dorm, they started discussing what they had learned. Predictably, Desdemona spoke first, sitting on the floor. "So, what did you think of the legend?"

Roisin was sitting in reverse on one of the chairs, leaning against the back. "Given the era, I think Slytherin had a very good point in being selective about which students they taught. There were other witches and wizards around who could have offered apprenticeships, rather than risking someone's neighbors finding out and leading a mob. _Purge the school_ sounds a bit extreme, though."

Draco was lying stomach down on his bed, facing the rest of the room. "I still can't believe that Granger actually managed to talk Binns into telling us. If I thought I could get close enough without being hexed, I might actually congratulate her."

Pansy smirked. "I can't believe that the rumors were wrong, and Patil actually seems to have a brain in her head."

Millicent raised an eyebrow. "Her twin is in Ravenclaw, and they can't be _that_ different. Back on topic."

Blaise shrugged. "The Gryffindors raised a few good points. I wonder what the legend means by '_true heir_'. People had lots of children back then, because of the mortality rate due to Burnings, feuds and less advanced medicine, and the oldest family trees are intertwined enough that any number of people could share a few drops with Slytherin."

Roisin thought it over. "Direct decent through the first-born, probably. But I don't think that there are any families named Slytherin, which makes it a lot harder. Maybe the last was a girl, and changed her name upon marriage?"

Theo shifted to a more comfortable position. "Who knows? Until we know more about the monster and it's method of purging, I say we stay out of it. Everyone with brains who _doesn't_ think Potter is the heir thinks that it's one of us, and we don't want a huge panic and lynching."

There were murmurs of agreement all around. Draco stood up. "Enough of this. It's finally stopped raining for a bit. I say we take advantage and spend some time outside before Dinner."

The others stood up. Fresh air would do everyone some good, and get rid of the '_Gloom-and-Doom'_ atmosphere that had been going around.

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* * *

_A/N: So, next chapter up. Sorry for the long wait, but between Work Placement, looking for a job and all the practical assignments I had to do, I barely had time to eat and sleep, let alone write._

_Anyway, take five seconds to tell me what you think. Please?_

_Nat._


	18. Defense and Dueling Disasters

_Disclaimer: Yet again, I do not own Harry Potter. Has this somehow failed to sink in by now? After eighteen chapters?  
__Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

The whispers and murmurs about the Heir of Slytherin had finally started to die down. It had taken several weeks, which said quiet a bit about the Hogwarts Gossip Network, especially since more than a few had shrugged and taken the philosophical viewpoint (namely that Mrs Norris being out of commission was a good thing and they should enjoy it while it lasted), but that was beside the point.

Meanwhile, there were several students (mainly fifth year and below) who were starting to wish that the monster was real and would make another appearance for a certain teacher. Sure, the wish might be a bit extreme, but it was widely considered better than suffering through the presence of the wished-for target. Some would even take being Petrified themselves, if it would get them away from Lockhart.

Everyone under Fifth Year still had mandatory Defense Against the Dark Arts, and were therefore forced to suffer in his classroom three times a week, while he talked about himself and all the things he had supposedly done. The Slytherins didn't believe a word of it, and Defense lessons were frequently spent passing notes and trying to figure out ways to escape the lesson. Lockhart might have been a joke as a Professor, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe that the entire class could suddenly come down sick and suddenly recover in time for the next lesson.

After the Pixie Incident, Lockhart had obviously gotten the message that live demonstrations were a Bad Idea. Sadly for everyone else, Lockhart had decided to make them act out parts of his book, sometimes as a class, sometimes with only one of the Houses, sometimes with only one or two 'volunteers'.

The first time had been particularly memorable. Lockhart had split the class into the two Houses, and given each a book to study, which they would be acting out in the next lesson. The Slytherins had been told to act out parts of _Breaks with a Banshee_, and Lockhart had handed out roles, somehow managing to infuriate the entire class.

Draco had been forced to play the "Sidekick, in awe of being allowed to assist me". Someone had managed to get off a silencing charm before Draco could protest, but the Slytherins had barely left the classroom afterward before he broke into a rant about how "Malfoys do not _serve_! We bow to _no-one!_"

Theo and Blaise had been shoved into the roles of the "Incompetent Mayor and his brother, at their wits end before I arrived". Being in the top ten of their year, grade-wise, the two of them had not been happy.

Desdemona had been enlisted as the "Mayor's daughter, a vision of calm serenity". Considering the fact that Desdemona was frequently described as 'very energetic', if not outright 'hyperactive', and considered it her duty to liven things up if they got too calm, the girl had been about to _demonstrate _said energy on Lockhart himself, but Millicent grabbed her robes.

Pansy, Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle had been forced to play random villagers "with the limited intelligence that one expects in such places." Given that Pansy and Millicent were both born and raised in manors just near small, isolated communities much like the one Lockhart had described, the two girls had not taken this well. Neither had Crabbe or Goyle, who were perfectly aware that they were not the brightest stars in the sky, but felt that there was no need to rub it in.

Roisin had been forced to play the banshee.

She had found this particularly infuriating for a number of reasons. One reason was that she wasn't entirely sure of the last time she had shouted, much less shrieked, at anyone. Another reason was that as one of the Great Families of Ireland, the O'Conner Clan was among those who heard the Banshee's cry as a warning omen of Death or Danger. Being forced to portray a banshee made her feel distinctly uncomfortable.

The only good part about it was that the whole mess (especially Lockhart) made for a very inspired and convincing lament, and the cries of grief and despair were not entirely faked. Well, and the fact that the Gryffindors were too busy mourning their own impending loss of dignity (_Wandering with Were-wolves_) to comment on Slytherin House's suffering.

And one did have to admit that the Gryffindors had it worse. The brains of the House was still smitten with Lockhart, and when Lockhart wasn't making the rest of the class perform, Harry was frequently singled out to help Lockhart "Demonstrate" scenes out of his books. Feeling sympathetic to his plight, (not even Gryffindors should be forced to go through _that_) the Slytherins avoided voicing the multitude of sardonic remarks based on this ordeal, and even Draco refrained from taunting Harry.

* * *

After a particularly painful Defense lesson, Harry and Roisin had met during a free period, and were sitting in the Ash tree again, savoring another rare instance of dry weather. There was a Quidditch match in a few days, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and Harry, aware that Roisin only came when she had good reason, was trying to talk his cousin into attending.

Roisin held out for the sake of appearances, but eventually agreed to go. After all, it was Draco's first match, and if that was not enough inspiration for the Second Years, at least, Flint had spent the last few days wandering the Common Room, loudly commenting on how he would skin anyone who failed to turn up and show support.

Given that Flint was as much of a Quidditch Fanatic as Gryffindor's Oliver Wood, the rest of Slytherin took him at his word and promised to be there.

* * *

The day of the first Quidditch Match dawned clear. Draco's attitude was not so bright. Stricken with nerves and with a faint greenish tinge to his face, it had taken nearly ten minutes of reassurance and finally outright threats to get Draco down to breakfast and actually eating something.

Draco finally managed some toast and about half a sausage before the Slytherin Quidditch Team was dragged out of the Hall and toward the Quidditch Pitch.

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were all against Slytherin, as usual, and there had been more than a few remarks about Slytherins buying their way onto the team. Knowing that Flint would have given up the broomstick offer if there had been someone better, the Slytherins ignored this, and occasionally retaliated about inferiority complexes if a person had to blame a broomstick for their inadequacies.

Despite the various remarks and taunts that pre-ceded any Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, everyone was worked up over the upcoming game, and it seemed that every House was determined to out-cheer the others.

The Quidditch Teams marched onto the field, and the cheering reached new levels. Roisin would not be surprised if Dumbledore received complaints about the noise level from residents of the Forbidden Forest. Next time someone talked her into attending a match, she was going to bring earplugs.

* * *

Not more than ten minutes into the game, Roisin was beginning to wonder if the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin games were somehow cursed, or if it was just Harry.

Draco's nerve attack had disappeared and he was performing wonderfully. Admittedly, almost no one in the school could match Harry as a seeker, but that was beside the point.

The new brooms were serving the Slytherin Team well, much to the other House's annoyance, and they seemed to be scoring almost constantly, much to Keeper Wood's fury. On the downside, this was at least partially because of the absence of Gryffindor's beaters, who were busy trying to stop a rogue bludger from killing Harry. Also, it had started raining.

Slytherin had just scored again, bringing the score up to 70-10 in Slytherin's favor, when Madam Hooch blew her whistle for a Time-Out. Using an eavesdropping spell, developed by a former Slytherin and a closely guarded House-Secret, Roisin looked for the Gryffindor Huddle while the rest of her House cheered, and rolled her eyes as she heard Wood berating the twins for not stopping the other bludger from interfering with the rest of the team.

One of the twins (Most of the school had given up trying to figure out which was which) retorted that they were trying to prevent the other bludger from murdering Harry, but the Spying Spell was quickly wearing off, making Wood's reaction inaudible.

Whatever he said, it was rendered a moot point, as the Gryffindor Team took off again. Draco and Harry were both searching for the snitch, although Draco was taking the occasional pause to taunt Harry. Roisin made a mental not to talk to him about this; petty rivalries had no place in sport, his time could be better spent by searching for the snitch while his opponent was distracted, and sticking close to a person with a bludger chasing them had a good chance of you winding up as Collateral Damage.

As it was, the bludger managed to break Harry's arm when he stayed in one spot a second too long, then flew back to finish him off as Harry shot toward Draco.

Draco's eyes widened as he saw the bludger shooting toward him, and noticed the snitch a second too late as Harry grabbed it from near Draco's head. Roisin winced: Flint was really going to let him have it for that one.

Roisin winced again as she saw Harry falling toward the ground, though he somehow managed to keep hold of the snitch. As Slytherin sulked and Gryffindor gloated, Roisin spotted Gilderoy Lockhart strutting to where Harry lay, surrounded by the rest of his team and a crowd of overly-cheerful Gryffindors.

Roisin was sure that she turned absolutely white. Despite his posturing, Lockhart was a complete incompetent, and who knew what kind of damage he would do to Harry in a failed attempt to make himself look better! Fighting her way through the crowds, Roisin made her way toward Harry as fast as she could, but got there just in time to hear Lockhart mumbling some kind of guilty excuse for what was supposed to have been a pain-numbing or bone-mending whatever.

Elbowing her way through the crowd, Roisin stopped in horror at the sight of a pink, fleshy blob sticking out of her cousin's sleeve. Stuff bone-_mending_! Lockhart had _removed_ the bones, even the ones in Harry's hand and fingers! Hermione and Ron hauled Harry to his feet just as the irritating Creevy boy snapped a few more pictures. Roisin resolved to hunt down and hex him at the next opportunity.

She was about to follow the Gryffindor Trio when Lockhart blocked her way. "Now, now, Miss O'Conner. Can't have you airing any grudges over loosing, now can we?"

Seeing a number of particularly stupid Gryffindors jerk at Lockhart's comment, (Most had the sense to realize that Harry and Roisin remained on good terms, regardless of House, and Roisin was among those who had to be begged into attending matches anyway, so she wouldn't be that worked up over defeat) Roisin scowled. Shooting a discreet hex at Lockhart's bootlaces, tying them together, Roisin shoved her way past Lockhart, through the rest of the crowd and followed the rest of the Gryffindor Team after Harry.

Hearing the '_splat_' of a body hitting the muddy ground behind her, Roisin smirked. That should cheer Harry up a bit.

* * *

Knowing that it would be a reasonable length of time before Flint stopped yelling at Draco and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the team, Roisin estimated that she would have at least ten minutes to visit Harry in the Hospital Wing before she would have to return to the Common Room and help sooth various egos.

The Gryffindor Team spotted her, but as her presence saved them from a full out Peeves-Attack, they let her join them. After a quick stop at the kitchens (Roisin memorized the location and mode of entry for future reference) they made their way up to the hospital wing, laden with cakes, sweets and pumpkin juice.

As predicted and anticipated, everyone except Hermione, and Harry in particular, laughed at Roisin's description of what she had done to Lockhart. There were one or two complaints that she didn't hit him with something worse and Roisin had to explain that the loss of dignity was worse than any second-year spell as far as Lockhart was concerned, but it was funny anyway.

This lead to a temporary cease-fire in the Hospital Wing, and they were all getting started on a good mini-party when Madam Pomfrey intervened and threw them all out, claiming that Harry needed rest.

* * *

Outside the Hospital Wing, Roisin was met by Blaise and Desdemona, who had overheard Lockhart's remark and wanted to make sure that she was safe from any potential mobbing, as emotions and impulsive actions always took some time to settle down after a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor _anything_.

Halfway back to the Common Room, they bumped into Colin Creevy, who was holding a bunch of grapes, _and several newly-developed photos!_

Food could wait, that little insect (Well, he was small and scrawny enough to pass as a stick insect that had been hit with an _engorgio_ charm) was _not_ getting away with potential blackmail photos! The Gryffindor's eyes widened when he saw the three Slytherins, but Blaise hit him with a flying tackle before he could escape, and Desdemona helped hold him down while Roisin wrestled the photos away.

Deciding that the images were really not worth being hexed by a trio of insane older students, Colin picked up the grapes and took off, leaving the three Slytherins to examine the photos.

Rifling through them, Roisin noticed that they were all of the Quidditch game, and in order from last to first.

The photos on top of the pile were of Lockhart, presumably taken after Roisin had left. Oh, but these were going in a book of treasured memories! Lockhart was covered in mud, presumably from her tying his laces together. Better still, it seemed that someone had overheard his remark and taken offence. Lockhart's skin had been turned purple, and his hair was standing on end, dyed a bright green.

Blackmail and amusement in abundance! No more acting in DADA for her!

Next, Roisin picked out the four copies of the picture Colin had taken of her, which were quickly shredded and bound straight for the nearest fireplace. Next to be picked out were the ones of Harry in the mud. She would give two thirds of those to Harry, who would probably take great pleasure in destroying them.

The rest she might be able to auction off the rest to his fan club or some of the girls who were crushing on him, (how Harry remained oblivious of them, Roisin had no idea) and blame Creevy.

* * *

Back in the Slytherin Common Room, the rest of the House spent nearly an hour getting the Quidditch Team into a mood that may not have been good, but was at least no longer outright black.

Spurred on by their early scoring success, the Quidditch Team had put up an excellent play, and Slytherin had only lost by fifty points _after_ Harry caught the snitch. It was a small consolation, but coupled with Lockhart's humiliation, it was enough for Slytherin to throw their own little party.

Several of the older students went to get food as the Sixth and Seventh Years started re-arranging the furniture and setting up music. Watching Desdemona drag a reluctant Theo onto the impromptu dance floor and ignoring the panicked look of a First-Year boy as Mary approached him determinedly, Roisin smiled. Slytherin life was never boring.

* * *

The next day could not be called 'Boring', either.

Flashing through the Rumor mill, like a house on fire, came the news that there had been another attack by Slytherin's Monster, and Colin Creevy had been Petrified.

Sending Mary to ask Seamus, and another First-Year to the Hospital Wing under the pretense of a cold, these facts were quickly verified, and Roisin was very glad that the attack had been discovered late at night, and that she, Desdemona and Blaise had not run into anyone else on the way back to the Common Room.

Suspicions of one of _them _being the Heir of Slytherin was the last thing any of them needed!

The tension and suspense following Halloween was back, and worse than before. First Years from all houses refused to go anywhere alone, moving around in tight groups, and the Teachers seemed to be tightening security.

Knowing that they would get nothing useful from Lockhart, the older years in Slytherin stepped up in teaching the younger ones how to defend themselves. That it had been a Gryffindor attacked meant that three quarters of the school were giving Slytherin suspicious looks, and the House Prefects had almost instantly banned them from going anywhere alone, and avoiding scrutiny and suspicion (aside from being in Slytherin to begin with) at all costs.

Meanwhile, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets and protective devices was sweeping the school behind the teacher's backs.

Knowing that Slytherin was unlikely to attack his own House, and trusting in the protection charms and rituals cast barely a month ago, the Slytherins mostly sat back and watched, occasionally interfering at someone else's expense.

One of the few exceptions, Roisin wrote to her Grandmother for a protective charm, which would be better than anything a student could whip up. Looking up from where she and Pansy were discussing the best way to use their family's reputations with Wards and Curse-Breaking, Millicent raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking for something protective, Roisin? You are descended from one of the oldest families in Ireland, you're no slouch with sheer magical power, and you're a Slytherin. What do you have to be worried about?"

Roisin sealed the letter and looked around for someone to escort her to the owlery. Friends were friends, but that still left six other years in Slytherin House, most of whom paid a lot of attention to blood purity, which was why Roisin tended to avoid the subject of ancestory. Her paternal Grandmother was from one of the oldest families in Ireland, but that didn't change the fact that her father was a Squib, her mother the sister of a Muggle-Born witch, and her brother about as un-magical as you get. There was no need to actually say that, however, so Roisin just shrugged. "Better to be safe than sorry."

* * *

Most of the school signed up to go home for Christmas, when Professor McGonagall came around with the lists.  
Harry, as usual, stayed behind, as did Ron and Hermione. Draco's parents had gone to visit some relations in France for the holidays, and Draco had baulked at the idea of weeks spent having his cheek pinched by older relatives, no matter how distant. As Draco himself had pointed out, "No amount of being the center of attention is worth the humiliation I'll go through with a horde of old Society ladies cooing over me. I'm staying here."

A few of the older years were staying as well, and Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle had elected to stay and keep him company. Everyone else packed their bags and got ready for the holidays, glad to get away from the stifling atmosphere at Hogwarts.

* * *

The next week, a week before the end of term, there was an incident in Potions.

Thursday was their Practical, and they were making a swelling solution, and the lesson had been progressing as most Potions classes did. Professor Snape was prowling between labs, making waspish comments. The Slytherins threw subtle taunts, trying to provoke the Gryffindors into doing something stupid. The Gryffindors were mostly trying to make themselves invisible, or retaliated when Professor Snape had his back turned.

Roisin was working with Blaise that day, and their Swelling Solution was in its final stages when there was a loud 'BANG!' and Goyle's cauldron exploded, sending the potion everywhere.

Blaise threw up a weak shielding charm that they had been learning from the Seventh Years, and pulled Roisin under their desk with him. Being on the other side of the classroom and several stations back, they managed to avoid getting hit.

The rest of the class was not so lucky, most of them in a panic as Professor Snape tried to restore order, shouting for everyone who had been affected to come up and be dosed with a Deflating Draught.

In addition to the antidote, Professor Snape also provided some very dire threats and the promise of expulsion if he found the culprit who had thrown a firework into Goyle's cauldron.

With the bad mood it had put her head of house in, Roisin would be more than glad to assist him, and even the Slytherins were glad to escape the Potions Classroom when the bell rang.

* * *

The next Monday, there was a notice outside the Great Hall, announcing the formation of a Dueling Club. Given the attacks and the overall tension, which was sure to escalate into violence any day now, most of the Hogwarts students thought it was a wonderful idea.

At eight o'clock that night, almost the entire school was crowded into the Great Hall. The tables had vanished, replaced by a golden stage, and everyone was carrying their wands and chattering excitedly about what they would learn. Or, if they were paired up, who they would love to hex.

The popular choice for an instructor was Professor Flitwick, who had reportedly been a Dueling Champion when he was younger. Another popular idea was Professor McGonagall, who, according to Fionna, had personified the Scottish saying: _"Men are natural Warriors, but a woman in battle is a truly dangerous and bloodthirsty thing."_

Someone had loudly wondered if the Gryffindor Head of House was going to Glare the Monster of Slytherin into submission. If push came to shove, the odds were on McGonagall.

Waiting for _someone_ to appear, Theo commented, "I don't care who it is, as long as they can actually –" he trailed off as the door opened, "teach us something. Never mind."

Their instructor was Gilderoy Lockhart.

Roisin closed her eyes. "Hellfire and Damnation. Can we at least hope he chose a competent Assistant?"

Her question went unanswered. Several of the older Slytherins were on the verge of turning around and walking straight back out again when Lockhart introduced his 'Assistant', Professor Snape.

Slytherin attitudes immediately changed from 'Get-Me-Out-Of-Here' to 'You-Couldn't-Pay-Me-To-Leave' in the space of a few seconds. Professor Snape was already glaring daggers at Lockhart for the introduction, and they were on the edge of their seats waiting to see what their Head of House would do to the Defense Teacher.

Roisin could see any number of people rolling their eyes as Lockhart told them that they would "Still have your Potions Master when I'm done with him."

If any of her Housemates would have understood the Muggle Reference, Roisin would have made a comment about the resemblance between a guided nuclear missile and Professor Snape's glare at Lockhart. As it was, Demetra, a Sixth Year Prefect, couldn't resist shouting, "We know that! Question is, will we still have a Defense Professor?"

This was greeted with Laughter from the other Slytherins, and Roisin could see several other students from various Houses either snickering or looking scandalized.

Lockhart's face flushed pink, but he collected himself. Briefly explaining the Dueling procedure, then taking an elaborate bow and assuming a ridiculous stance opposite Professor Snape, who looked disgusted at the posturing. "On the count of three we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

_Maybe the blond really isn't from a bottle, after all,_ was Roisin's thought as all of the Slytherins present exchanged disbelieving looks. Millicent was the one to voice the unanimous thought. "I wouldn't bet anything I particularly cared to lose on it."

Both professors attacked at the same time. Professor Snape was faster and calmly disarmed Lockhart, blasting him across the room and into a wall as he did. The Slytherins and several other students cheered loudly.

Lockhart was noticeably wobbling as he stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, that was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand – thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that one, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so," (Professor Snape obviously did) "it was really very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let…them…see…"

Lockhart trailed off, obviously having noticed Professor Snape's expression, which was currently promising Doom and a slow, painful death. Going for self-preservation, Lockhart quickly turned back to the crowd. "Enough demonstrating. I'm going to come among you and put you into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me?"

They moved through the crowd. Most were paired with members of their own house, but there was the occasional inter-House pairing. Roisin was just squaring off with Desdemona and Pansy was facing down an apprehensive Amanda Brocklehurst, when Millicent and Draco were called by Professor Snape. Both looked happy when told that they would be partnering Hermione Granger and Harry, respectively.

Mentally reviewing possible spells, Roisin rolled her eyes. This was not going to go well. Draco and Harry's rivalry was well known, and the confrontation promised to be messy. Millicent had overheard Granger and Weasly laughing about the effect of the Swelling Solution last week, and Millicent didn't get mad; she got even.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart yelled from the stage, safely out of range, "and bow to each other."

Exchanging an amused smirk, Roisin and Desdemona bowed to each other. From up on the stage, Lockhart struck a dramatic pose, as though he was a lord announcing a tournament. "Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast the charm to disarm your opponents. Disarm _only_ – we don't want any accidents."

_Like Professor Snape kicking your backside._ The multitude of stifled snickers was ignored as Lockhart counted down. "One…two…three!"

The room exploded with a barrage of spells and hexes. Dodging to avoid Desdemona's Jelly-Legs jinx, Roisin hit her wand-hand with a stinging charm, following up with a mild Pulse Spell to knock the wand away when Desdemona tried to retrieve it. Desdemona was ready to switch tactics and tackle Roisin, but was hit by someone else's stray spell and knocked to the ground.

This was nothing to what was going on around them. Mary was against a Muggle-born Hufflepuff, who looked terrified as Roisin's cousin dramatically widened her eyes and cast a dancing hex, designed to miss, cackling like a stereotypical Wicked Witch from Muggle Fairytales. The Hufflepuff actually dropped their wand in fright, leaving himself open to a Body-bind curse.

Professor Snape was observing this calmly, assessing everyone's level of competence as Lockhart ran around shrieking for everyone to stop. After a few minutes, Professor Snape took things into his own hands. "_Finite Incantium!_"

A haze of smoke hung over the entire hall. Roisin helped Desdemona to her feet, looking around. Pansy stood over Amanda, who lay on the floor, trying to catch her breath. Harry and Draco were standing up, doubled over and panting. Millicent had Hermione in a headlock, and Hermione was whimpering in pain. Their wands lay forgotten, and Millicent didn't look like she was letting go anytime soon, until Harry and Ron leapt forward to pull the two girls apart.

Moving through the recovering students, Lockhart obviously realized that dueling pairs had not been the best of ideas. "Perhaps I had better teach you how to block unfriendly spells."

He glanced at Professor Snape, who looked almost pleased at the prospect of using Lockhart as a practice dummy for some of his more "Unfriendly" spells. Lockhart quickly looked away, searching for a dueling pair.

When the demonstrating pair turned out to be Harry and Draco, Roisin groaned and buried her face in her hands. If earlier was bad, this would be an unmitigated disaster. Blaise patted her shoulder in consolation. "There, there. It might not be _that_ bad."

Roisin looked up, prepared to correct him on exactly _how_ bad the situation could, and most likely would, become. She was cut off by a loud hissing from the stage. Whipping her head around, Roisin (and just about everyone else) paled. Draco had conjured a large snake and sent it slithering quickly toward Harry. Harry had frozen still, probably the best course of action, and Professor Snape was about to get rid of it when Lockhart bounded forward, still trying to look good for everyone.

Lockhart's wand-brandishing resulted in two things. The first was a very annoyed, not to mention poisonous, reptile. The second was a loud bang which sent the aforementioned snake flying into the crowd, where it immediately set off toward a group of Hufflepuffs. Most of the Hufflepuffs dove out of the way, but one boy (Justin? Roisin thought) was frozen in place as Snape and Harry, both ran toward him, trying to cut off the snake.

Professor Snape was aiming his wand at the snake when Harry started hissing at it, and suddenly, the snake stopped, going as limp as a garden hose.

Professor Snape made the snake disappear in a puff of black smoke, but the room was deathly still for several moments. Everyone was looking at Harry, either awed, stunned, calculating or afraid. The silence was broken by the Hufflepuff Harry had saved shouting, "What do you think you're playing at?" and storming off.

The first and probably last Dueling Club Meeting ended rather quickly after that.

* * *

Quickly hustled back to their Common Rooms, it was obvious that this latest incident was going to be the talk of the school for weeks to come.

Following Professor Snape back down to the dungeons, the Slytherins were all exchanging looks, ranging from puzzled of extremely worried. Somehow, they managed to make it to the Boys Dorm before Draco burst out ranting. "Potter's a parselmouth! How the hell did this happen? He's Gryffindor's Golden Boy, and he had our House Patron's most noble gift! What's going to happen next, Lockhart actually teaching us something useful?"

Pansy sighed and motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, who grabbed Draco by the arms and pulled him down onto his bed. Roisin opened her eyes from where she had been leaning back against a chair. "I know I sound ignorant, but could someone tell me what is going on? Aside from a Gryffindor having a Slytherin-noteworthy trait, why is this such a big deal?"

Blaise sighed, leaning over to take her hand. "It's a big deal, Rose, because Salazar Slytherin was famous for talking to snakes. With everyone worrying about the attacks, someone is going to start on how the Monster must have been Symbolic to Slytherin…"

Roisin completed the sentence. "Someone will come up with a giant snake or reptile, and Harry is going to be accused of being the Heir of Slytherin. With him speaking parseltongue, and the fact that Salazar Slytherin died over a thousand years ago, it's going to be very hard to prove otherwise."

The other First Years nodded. Roisin let her head thump back against the chair. "This totally bites."

Desdemona looked like she was about to vocalize a stronger word, when a Prefect stuck their head through the door and ordered the girls back to their own Dorm. Bidding the boys goodnight, Millicent, Desdemona, Pansy and Roisin obeyed. Quickly changing and falling into bed, Roisin closed her eyes. This whole mess was going to give her nightmares.

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* * *

_A/N: Yes, I know I haven't updated in what seems like forever, but here's an extra-long chapter to make up for it._

_In other news, I have 77 hits for Chapter 17, but only four reviews. Tell me what you think, otherwise I can't correct any mistakes or add any favorite things!_

_Thanks to those who did review,_

_Nat_


	19. Things Somehow Get Worse

_Disclaimer: Yet again, I do not own Harry Potter. Has this somehow failed to sink in by now? After this many chapters?  
Summary: See previous chapters._

_A/N: Tomorrow is the two-year anniversary of my twin sister's death, so this chapter is dedicated to her. We miss you, Sal._

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

The last Herbology lesson of term was cancelled, as Professor Sprout wanted to fit little winter-appropriate clothes on the Mandrakes, and didn't feel that any of the students were up to the task.

Deciding to complete as much of their Christmas homework as possible before the holidays, Roisin headed for the library, accompanied by Blaise and Theo. The other Second Years were providing Moral (and shivering) Support to Draco and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, who had been dragged out for 'One Last Practice' before the end of term.

A group of Hufflepuffs glared at them as they walked through the doors. Roisin ignored them and dragged her companions, who looked more than happy to start a glaring contest, over to a table and opening her Charms book.

For a group that seemed to be trying to hold a "Secret" meeting, the Hufflepuffs were doing a spectacularly lousy job. The would-be-whispers got louder and louder as the Slytherins were trying to study, attempting to ignore the Hufflepuffs' insistence and shoddy reasoning on how Harry was the Heir of Slytherin.

Finally, Roisin gave up trying to calculate how the rat tails were used in ratio to litres of purified water, slammed her Potions book closed and stood up to stalk over to the Hufflepuffs.

Blaise and Theo were perfectly content to sit back and watch; angry Slytherin females were nothing to be trifled with. When faced with one, your best options were to apologize and make yourself scarce, or sit back, stay quiet, and enjoy the show.

And what a wonderful show it promised to be. With Professor Snape as your House Head, you picked up a certain flair for dramatics, specializing in intimidation, and Roisin looked like she fully intended to replace the Hufflepuffs' fear of the Heir with the more immediately pending fear of _her. _

The Hufflepuffs might not fear her for very long, but if it made them stop talking about people behind their backs, it would be long enough.

Roisin's wrath was unfortunately forestalled, however, by the appearance of Harry himself, who by the sound of things, had been looking for Justin to explain his side of the Parselmouth mess. Wanting to hear the explanation herself, Roisin stopped in the shadows and listened. Ooh, Harry was being sarcastic! That always promised to be good and entertaining. "Then I supposed you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off!"

Maybe the lead Hufflepuff really was as much of a stubborn, pompous windbag as he looked. "All I saw was you speaking parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin."

So, of course, if the pudgy idiot saw it, then it absolutely had to be true. Muttering some choice words that Roisin was sure she wasn't supposed to know, the Slytherin girl felt Blaise and Theo come up behind her as Harry snapped his defence. "I didn't chase the snake at him! It didn't even touch him!"

The Hufflepuff glared back. "It was a near miss!" The Hufflepuff paused, and Roisin wondered if he was searching for his missing brain cells. No such luck. "And in case you were getting any ideas, I can trace my bloodline back through nine generations of witches and wizards and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so –"

Rolling her eyes, Roisin leaned back out of sight as Theo commented. "That explains it then, he's an inbred idiot."

This earned a snicker from the other two. Blaise whispered back. "What's he bragging about, anyway? The Zabini family can trace its roots back to the Wizarding Lords of Ancient Rome, and the Nott line reaches back at least nine_teen_ generations."

Roisin shushed the two of them and turned back to the conversation. She would have thought that the Hufflepuff would have wisened up and shut up by now. "I heard that you hate the Muggles you live with!"

Harry almost snarled his reply. "It's impossible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them!" He did have something of a point. Three quarters of the Dursley family had never got along well with Harry, and while their intolerance of magic had not quite led them to virtually disown their previously adored daughter, Roisin still felt a pang at the ever-widening rift between her family and herself. "I'd like to see you try it!"

Watching her cousin storm out of the room, Roisin decided to give him a few minutes to cool off. Meanwhile, she had some Hufflepuffs to intimidate. Melting out of the shadows, she folded her arms and glared. A girl with blonde pigtails was the first to notice her, and let out a yelp of fright. Recalling Professor Snape in potions and doing her best to copy his stance, Roisin Loomed over them. "Some people are trying to study here. Either shut up about my cousin, or I'll _make_ you shut up, and you really, _really_ don't want that."

Another Hufflepuff, Something-or-other Smith, glared back at her. Roisin remained serenely unintimidated as the boy blustered at her. "You're just proof that He's the Heir! You're his cousin, and a Slytherin from an old line, why wouldn't you want to get rid of Muggle-borns, and you're just working together to avoid suspicion!"

Roisin's glare turned nasty. Did Hufflepuffs have a collective, and currently absent, brain or something? Honestly! "That argument holds less water than a sieve. The O'Conners are one of the Great Families of Ireland, not England, and are descended from the Hero's and Kings of old! We know the meaning of Honour, and we don't go around killing people for their blood unless it's a Blood-Feud!"

Trying to calm down, Roisin swept back to the table they had been using and gathered her books. Blaise came up behind her. "A bit over the top with dramatics, don't you think?"

Roisin huffed. "Only way to get through to those idiots, I think. I'm off to find my cousin, you want to come?"

Blaise shouldered his book bag. "No-one goes anywhere alone, even in the time it'll take to catch up to Potter. I'll go with you."

Theo spotted another Slytherin entering the library and shook his head. "I'll stick around for a bit. I'll go back to the Common Room with Ophelia when she leaves."

* * *

They temporarily parted ways. Tracing Harry's footsteps (and the portraits muttering about 'insolent boys these days') Roisin and Blaise went down a corridor, up a flight of stairs, and caught up with Harry in a darker corridor with the torches blown out by the winter wind. Letting go of Blaise's hand, Roisin touched Harry's shoulder. "Hey. Everything all right?"

Harry didn't bother to deny it. "No. More Heir of Slytherin bull going around. I'm just getting so sick of it! I mean, 'Gryffindor's Golden Boy', here, why do they think I'm the Heir of Slytherin? I don't give a damn how pure Ernie's blood is! I may not like the Dursleys, (sorry Roisin, you know I'm not counting you) but that doesn't mean I'm going to go around killing muggle-borns. For God's sake, Hermione's a muggle-born!"

Roisin patted his arm sympathetically, determined to cheer him up. "Don't worry, you're not alone. Apparently, we've joined forces and are using each other to divert suspicion." She smirked and tossed her hair dramatically, trying to make light of thing. "As if I'd limit myself to just a school! Besides, I hit people where it'll last and hurt. Petrification is far too easily cured."

The objective was achieved. Harry snickered. Blaise joined him. "Anyway, - "

Whatever Harry had been about to say was cut off as they both tripped over something in the middle of the Hallway. Looking to see what it was, Roisin felt the blood draining from her face. Justin Finch-Fletchly was lying on the stone floor, ridged and cold, with a look of shock frozen on his face.

Above him, was the strangest sight any of the three present had ever seen. Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-whatsit, a.k.a Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost, floated stiff and horizontal about six inches off the floor. He was no longer a pearly white colour, but black and smoky.

Frozen in horror and feeling ready to faint, Roisin was broken out of her trance by Blaise shaking her. "Rose! Stay with me, now. We can't be found here, any of us!"

Roisin nodded and grabbed Harry's arm as Blaise cast a disillusionment charm on himself. He faded out of sight just as Murphy's Law kicked in and Peeves made an appearance, screaming the news about another attack.

Hearing an "oof" from Blaise's general direction as a crowd swarmed into the hallway, cutting him off from her, Roisin could only close her eyes and hope for the best.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Puck was the only one listening, and didn't seem to be in an obliging mood. For several minutes, there was nothing but confusion, and then Professor McGonagall arrived on the scene. A loud blast from her wand silenced the crowd, but no sooner had Roisin felt the touch of an invisible hand through the thinning crowd when the Hufflepuffs from the library arrived.

Ernie was in the lead, and immediately zeroed in on Harry and Roisin. "Caught in the act!"

Not for the first time, Roisin was extremely grateful for Professor McGonagall's unyielding visage as she snapped at both the Hufflepuffs and at Peeves to be quiet. No one argued with a snappish Professor McGonagall.  
Justin Finch-Fletchly and Sir Nicholas were taken to the Hospital Wing, while Roisin and Harry were lead away by Professor McGonagall.

Catching a now visible Blaise out of the corner of her eye, now accompanied by Theo and Ophelia, Roisin flickered a discreet hand signal, indicating to get Professor Snape. The other Slytherins left quietly but quickly as Roisin followed her cousin and the Deputy Headmistress around the corner to in front of a particularly ugly gargoyle.

It jumped to the side when Professor McGonagall said _"Sherbet Lemon"_, which was apparently a password, revealing a spiral staircase, which lead up to a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

Roisin winced. This must be Dumbledore's office.

* * *

Professor McGonagall ushered them inside and left them to wait. Roisin collapsed onto a chair and tried to calm herself down as Harry looked around the office, inspecting the portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, most of whom appeared to be taking naps.

Last year had proven that Professor Dumbledore didn't care about how the Slytherins were treated, even indirectly humiliating them himself, as long as his precious Gryffindors were safe and happy. As a second person at the scene of a crime, Roisin wouldn't be in the least surprised if she was left with the blame to make things easier for Harry. Roisin hoped that Blaise and the others had managed to contact Professor Snape.

But nothing would help her if she didn't calm down, and hysterics could easily be taken as an admission of guilt. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind and tried to relax. She had just managed to school herself back into appropriate Slytherin Serenity when Harry walked over to the raggedy old Sorting Hat and put it on again. Roisin had just decided that she didn't want to know when Harry took the hat off again and informed it that he didn't belong in Slytherin.

Roisin nearly fell off her chair! Ok, _that_ she really _did_ want to know! "Harry, what the hell is that thing on about?"

Harry had apparently forgotten that she was in the room, and was obviously trying to think of the best way to either evade or explain the answer when both children were distracted by a strange gagging noise.

Roisin leapt out of her chair, (at the moment, and until the who Petrification mess was sorted out, Paranoia was her friend) and they both looked around for the source. It turned out to be a decriped and ragged-looking bird on a golden perch, looking at them balefully. If one tilted their head slightly, the bird bore a slight resemblance to the Weasley's Post-Owl, Errol. However, this bird was built more along the lines of a cross between an eagle and a swan than an owl, so it was probably magical.

Just as Roisin was starting to think of possible magical birds, the topic became largely irrelevant as the thing burst into flames, quickly turning into a fireball, and in seconds, reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes. Roisin closed her eyes. Not only were she and Harry found at the scene of the latest Petrification, now Dumbledore's pet burst into flames while they were the only ones present. This was only going to make things worse.

Before she could even start to think of a solution, the office door opened and Professor Dumbledore entered, looking very sombre. Harry began to stumble over an explanation, but Dumbledore only smiled. "About time too. He's been looking dreadful for days, I've been telling him to get a move on."

There was no mirror handy to check, but Roisin had a strong suspicion that she looked completely gob smacked. She took comfort in the fact that Harry looked equally stunned and that Dumbledore was nice enough to not laugh _too_ hard before explaining. "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. They burst into flames when it is time for them to die, and are re-born from the ashes."

Dumbledore indicated the pile of ashes and Roisin turned to look, just in time to see a baby chick poke its head out. Knowing that almost all newborn creatures, human or animal, are wrinkled and ugly when they enter the world, Roisin swooped over to examine the chick, cooing over it as Dumbledore continued his explanation.

She was interrupted by Harry poking her, and turned to realize that Dumbledore had already sat down behind his desk and was waiting for an explanation. Joining her cousin on the small lounge, Roisin looked at her hands and waited.

Before the Headmaster could say anything, however, the door burst open to reveal a frantic Hagrid, holding a dead rooster and with a wild look in his eyes. "It wasn't him, Professor Dumbledore! I was talking to Harry _seconds _before that kid was found! He never had time…"

Ducking the dead rooster that Hagrid was now waving around, Roisin saw Professor Snape slip into the office. She was probably the only one, however, as Hagrid was still protesting Harry's Innocence. "It can't have been him; I'll swear it to the Ministry of Magic if I have to…"

Dumbledore tried to get a word in. "Hagrid, I –"

Hagrid continued, obviously desperate to keep Harry safe. "You've got the wrong boy, sir, I _know_ Harry never…"

Finally, Dumbledore managed to get a word in with a very loud "_Hagrid!_ I do not believe that Harry attacked these people."

This stopped Hagrid short, and he looked faintly embarrassed. "Oh. Right. I'll just wait outside, then."

The Groundskeeper stomped out, and Roisin caught her Head of House hiding a smirk as he stepped out of the shadows. At this point, Dumbledore was reassuring Harry that he did not think him guilty, and Roisin took the chance do go over and examine the events of the past hour.

First: The 'Monster of Slytherin' was obviously a lot more dangerous than had everyone had previously thought, if it could petrify a ghost.

Second: The victims were both Muggle borns, and Roisin had overheard Harry talking about Filch being a squib. A pattern was forming, but she needed more to confirm it.

Third: The current nervousness over the attacks was going to escalate into a panic before the day was out. Roisin would need to be very careful, and would probably need an alibi just for visiting the WC.

Fourth: It seemed she had mis-judged Hagrid. Before, Roisin had shared the almost school-wide view that Hagrid was just a well-meaning oaf. Now, she found herself re-evaluating that opinion. Hagrid may or may not be the brightest star in the sky, but he obviously cared about Harry, if he was willing to barge in and yell at the Headmaster. Roisin resolved to be nicer to Hagrid in the future.

Fifth: She needed to pay more attention to what was going on around her. The Headmaster had finished questioning Harry, and it seemed that they were both dismissed, although Roisin had the feeling that she was going to be under close watch for a while. Roisin couldn't wait to get out of there, and was out of her seat before Professor Snape could even open his mouth to summon her.

Using the Headmaster's fireplace, Professor Snape flooed both Roisin and himself down to his own office. Once out of sight, Roisin burst into tears of relief and stress, clinging to her Head of House.

Showing the very-slightly-compassionate side that only the Slytherins ever saw, Professor Snape didn't push her off him, but waited impatiently until Roisin got herself mostly under control, and then offered a calming draught. Guiding her back to the Slytherin Common Room, Professor Snape left her in the care of her frantic House Mates.

Demetra snapped her fingers for a House Elf, ordering a pitcher of Hot Chocolate and several mugs. Blaise and Theo had obviously filled everyone in on what they knew, and the entire House was on the edge of their seats waiting for the results. Even if a Slytherin didn't have a personal interest in what happened to Roisin, any negative consequences could spell lasting damage to Slytherin House as a whole.

* * *

As it turned out, Roisin was right, and the Rumour Mill had everything blown out of proportion, and everyone in full-blown hysteria. Professor McGonagall's office door was nearly pounded down as nearly all of those who had previously signed up to stay at Hogwarts over the Holidays were now begging to change their minds.

As always, however, there were one or two exceptions. Sally Roseworthy, a Fourth Year, had pointed out that anyone who stayed behind would be even more suspect than usual. Draco said that he would rather have people whispering about him than spend a single hour with his overseas relations. Roisin had the sense not to point out the similarities between his motives for staying and Harry's, as it would only cause a tantrum. The Weasleys and Granger were also staying behind, Ron openly for Harry's moral support, the twins and girl-Weasley so that they didn't have to visit one of their other brothers, and the Prefect because he considered it his 'duty'.

Roisin was sure that Ron had a secondary motive, however, as Gryffindors couldn't lie to save their lives, and she had seen those 'Innocent' expressions often enough on her own Housemates and brother not to be suspicious that the Golden Trio were Up To Something.

Either way, it was with great relief that Roisin watched the term draw to a close, and looked forward to the relative peace and quiet of the O'Conner Keep.

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_A/N: Sorry I've taken so long to update, but with end-of-year tests, two family birthdays, organizing my Mum's 50th party, several other fics and a multitude of other things, I've had absolutely no time to write._

_Anyway, consider it a Christmas present before I go on vacation. Hopefully I won't take so long to update next time._

_You know the drill, so drop a review._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Nat_


	20. Christmas and Other Things

_Disclaimer: If I owned it, I would be lounging on a beach in the sub-tropics, or somewhere in Ireland. As I am not, and am stuck in TAFE for the foreseeable future, Harry Potter still belongs to JKR.  
__Summary: See previous chapter._

_Note: On a slightly related tangent, one of my original poems has been published! __It can be found under 'Magic Spells and Wishing Wells', along with several other works from other writers, in a poetry book titled __**Immortal Verses**__. Yes, I have spent the past few weeks gloating over this fact. If anyone is interested in reading it, drop a message or a review, along with your contact details._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The Hogwarts Express was unusually quiet as it departed to take students home for Christmas. Still, Roisin didn't let it dampen her delight at going home, and kept a close eye on Mary and Seamus, who were bouncing with energy. Finally giving up on the possibility of ever getting them to sit still, Roisin left them with Desdemona (might as well keep the potential trouble in one spot) and wandered off in search of Blaise and some quiet conversation.

Having just managed to rid himself of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, none of whom were particularly conductive to intelligent and non-egotistical conversation, Blaise was more than happy to oblige, and the rest of the journey was spent in a lively debate on Potions vs. other branches of Magic.

When they finally reached London, Roisin was glad to see not only Fionna, but also Michael and Nessa. After collecting luggage and bidding farewell to friends, they port keyed back to the O'Conner Keep, landing right in the middle of a rainstorm.

After being subjected to numerous drying charms, Roisin went upstairs to unpack. Placing her clothing in the closet, Roisin made a mental note to look up waterproofing charms and put them on everything she owned.

The appropriately-named 'Emerald Isle' was a beautiful place, but there were sometimes distinct disadvantages to living on an island that always bore the brunt of the Atlantic Ocean's bad moods.

* * *

The storm continued over that night and the next day, showing no signs of letting up and leaving people virtually confined indoors except for the most vital tasks. Roisin and the twins used the opportunity to finish their holiday homework.

Two days into the holidays, Roisin was just working on the conclusion to her Charms Essay when there was a knock at the door. Expecting it to be Mary or Seamus with another '_I accidentally left [insert-random-book-or-similar] at Hogwarts. Can I borrow yours?_' request, Roisin didn't look up as she called for the visitor to come in.

Inattention aside, Roisin was justifiably surprised to see Michael, Nessa and her grandmother entering her chamber, all looking unusually serious. With the slight paranoia that came with being a Slytherin, Roisin found herself worried. "Is everything all right?"

Nessa transfigured a flower vase and two candles into chairs, and motioned for Roisin to join them. Now feeling very apprehensive, Roisin complied, looking around with a confused expression. Fionna was the one to take pity on her and start the explanation. "It's about the Dursleys, and about your place here."

Roisin paled. When she had done her first conscious magic at the age of six, her parents had acted very stiff around her for several days, though they didn't treat her any differently, and blamed Harry for most of it. Despite the warm acceptance of her extended family, and repeated assurance that she would always have a place in the Magical world and especially O'Conner Keep, her parent's reaction after recieving her Hogwarts Letter, along with the rest of her Muggle family's intolerance for anything unusual, though she knew most of those stories through Fionna, had left her with a mostly ignored but very deep insecurity of peoples reactions if she did anything 'wrong'.

Not telling her Housemates her exact heritage was more of a political move (though most of them had already guessed that she was a half-blood, since Lily Potter had been a Muggle-Born, and Harry was Roisin's maternal cousin), and she knew that they would stay friends with her regardless, Roisin still subconciously feared what would happen if the specific details came out.

Had something happened to make Michael and Nessa regret that assurance? Did they plan to send her back to Privet Drive for some unknown transgression? Had her parents come up with some way to forbid her any contact with the Magical world at all, beyond keeping Hedwig locked up? They wanted anything to do with Magic as far away from them as possible, but maybe her parents were hoping that if they kept her far enough away from anything to do with Wizards, her magic would suppress itself.

Her concern did not go un-noticed, and Nessa hastened to reassure her. "Don't worry, dear, it's nothing bad. We aren't trying to make you go back to the Muggles, if that's what you're worried about."

Since that _had_ been Roisin's main concern, she visibly relaxed. Fionna continued. "It's about what happened last summer. Locking up your only method of communication with the Magical World, not letting you post letters the Muggle way, and how they treated your cousin. We're looking at ways to ensure that it doesn't happen again, but it's slow going."

Michael took up the explanation. "Fionna is your guardian in the Magical world, as is usual for any squib- or Muggle-born with adult magical relations within three generations, but the Dursleys are still your legal guardians in the Muggle world, and as your biological parents, they have the greater claim to you."

Fionna took over again. "If we can find sufficient grounds and supporting evidence, we can have them declared unfit parents, and remove you from their custody. Harry also. You claim that he was forced to sleep in a cupboard until his letter came. Is there anything else?"

Roisin bit her lip. 'Unfit Parents' was going a bit far, since they had never abused Roisin, though Harry could certainly claim Neglect. "Nothing off the top of my head, and you'll probably have a hard time with the cupboard, even." She acknowledged the quizzical looks. "My parents needed some way to explain how strange things kept happening around Harry, so they spread the rumor that he was mentally unstable. Local authorities and anyone who knows us will explain it away as some kind of bid for attention."  
Besides, she remembered her mother saying something about how the cupboard had been the only place Harry would go to sleep when he was younger. But that was getting off-topic. "I told you about the bars on the window, but that was an under the table, cash only job. You'll find no records of it, and the damage from them being ripped out is probably repaired by now. Also, they didn't lock me up, and until my letter came, I was my parent's co-pride and joy. Add that I've never been the most social of people, my best muggle friend was away on a family vacation at the time, and that I had just returned from a very prestigious but demanding boarding school, and people probably just thought I was getting my summer schoolwork out of the way early. My brother may be something of an idiot, but he's smart enough not to say anything that might land him or my parents in trouble. Besides, everyone views them as fine, upstanding members of the community, so I don't think that there is a lot anyone can do to get me away from them."

Nessa slowly nodded. "And unless we can come up with something legal and binding in the Muggle world, there are going to be questions about why you have suddenly seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. There would also need to be a very good reason for you to have left the country to permanently stay with your eccentric grandmother, rather than your loving parents."

Fionna narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'm Vernon's mother; I know several things that he would very much prefer never became common knowledge. I can't get them to hand you over completely, but I can convince them to let you stay for at least part of the summer holidays, and since Hogwarts has their permission to visit friends during the holidays on record, for all they know, you are spending Christmas and Easter at Hogwarts. We will keep looking, but for now, that may have to do."

Roisin blinked twice. That sounded a bit extreme, though she suspected that 'things Vernon would prefer not be common knowledge' was of the sort of thing that included how old he was before he was fully toilet-trained, a standard weapon in the arsenal of anyone who has known another since toddler-hood. "You'd blackmail your own children?"

Fionna shook her head. "I defied my family and risked being cast out by marrying a muggle-born wizard. In a number of the more conservative families, a child could be disowned or disinherited for not having magic, but that is beside the point. If I have to resort to drastic measures to ensure your safety, then I will."

Roisin jumped up from her chair and hugged her grandmother, who returned it, stern expression melting into a fond smile. Nessa joined the embrace while Michael un-transfigured the chairs back into a vase and candles. It was, as Roisin's friend Lorna would put it, a Kodak Moment.

Of course, the 'Kodak Moment' was broken by a quick knock and the entrance of Mary and Seamus. "Hey, Roisin, can we – ah."

Roisin smirked and rolled her eyes as the twins spotted their parents, and in the style of all children who have recently pranked a close relative, assuming the worst.

It was good to be among family.

* * *

The next day, Roisin found another reason to be glad about family. Aiden had recently turned seventeen, the legal age in England, and had been eavesdropping on the conversation about the Dursleys. He had also mentioned it to one of Roisin's older friends, who was also seventeen. The two had talked about it and decided that there were practical measures, and then there was retaliation.

Aiden had come to visit Roisin with the aforementioned friend, Aoibhe, and mentioned that they had overheard the discussion. "Mother and Father are taking steps, I know, but we feel that more extreme measures need to be taken, just in case they lose the battle. You can't do anything outside of the wards yet, but we'll take any requests."

Roisin smiled faintly. Logic and Maturity said to let Fionna, Michael and Nessa handle it, and not stoop to the Dursley's level and curse them by way of petty revenge on Harry's behalf.  
On the other hand, Logic and Maturity were vastly over-rated at times. Also, potential disciplinary parties (Micheal and Nessa) were feeling less than charitable toward the Dursleys, and since Aiden and Aoibhe were doing the dirty work, Roisin wouldn't be blamed. "Just keep it to putting bars on the bedroom windows and maybe a jinx on the mailbox, or you'll probably get caught. If you agree to those restrictions, then I have no idea where you went and never saw you leave."

Aiden and Aoibhe smirked. "We'll bring back pictures."

* * *

The storm let up on the 18th, and after several hours drying out, life resumed as normal. Aiden and Aoibhe had returned, looking very satisfied and with photographic evidence of their 'visit' to the Dursleys. There were, Roisin decided, some definite advantages to having overprotective friends and relations.

Staying at the Keep was wonderful, as always, but there was one downside. Many of the girls Roisin's age had entered the 'boy-craze' stage of life early, so Roisin spent time with either the older, more sensible girls, the few age mates who didn't spend the entire time giggling, or the younger children, who simply assumed that hiding from the giggle-squad was a simply a more complex version of hide-and-seek.

Seamus joined the other boys on December 26th, spending the day on the wren hunt. Girls would occasionally join the boys on the Hunt, but as she was now grown up and attending Hogwarts, Mary felt that she no longer counted as a 'young' girl, and stayed out of the hunt.

Fionna had also decided that Roisin needed to learn how to dance and had started to teach her. With riding, various other activities and writing to her Hogwarts friends, Roisin could safely say that she was never bored.  
Blaise had managed to avoid visiting Italy these holidays, and had formed some sort of alliance/duty roster with the rest of their year (excluding Draco, Crabbe and Goyle) to keep Desdemona away from any sugar-based treats at the parties that were regularly held over the holidays.

Roisin had also received a slightly frantic letter from Crabbe, who had apparently been sent a letter informing him that his parents were considering possible matches for him. Having yet to start _notice_ noticing girls, Crabbe had promptly written to all his friends in a panic, especially the girls, practically begging for advice.

Given Crabbe's lack of popularity with nearly everyone, Roisin had found it vastly funny, but tried to keep the amusement out of her letter as she wrote back, urging him to calm down and stop worrying. His parents were only considering, after all, and there was plenty of time for him to get to know the girl, in the unlikely event that they did make a match, and if necessary, change his parent's minds.

Before she knew it, the holidays were over and Roisin, Seamus and Mary were on the train back to Hogwarts.

* * *

The first day of term, Roisin was in the Hospital Wing, cursing Peeves to wherever Poltergeists go and back.

The wretched thing had gone and covered the corridor outside the Slytherin Common Room in oil and ice, resulting in injuries for the first few out of the door in the morning. Two Seventh Years and Mercutio Moon, Desdemona's brother, had wound up with hairline fractures, and were out in a few hours. Roisin, on the other hand, had nearly stopped in time before Goyle had run into her from behind and both second years had toppled over with a painful crash. As a result, Roisin had come off somewhat worse, with a broken arm and mild concussion, and required a slightly longer stay.

There was one interesting thing, though. Someone else was in the Hospital Wing, too, and the privacy curtains hadn't come down once, even to eat, a fact that would spark anyone's interest. Curiosity was not always a good thing, but when Madam Pomfrey flooed away to request some complex potions from Professor Snape, Roisin decided to indulge herself.

Professor Snape would be five minutes before finishing his first year Slytherin/Gryffindor class, which according to Mary and Seamus, always took a few extra minutes. Then again, any class that involved Gryffindor/Slytherin took extra time for the teacher to recover before facing their next class.

This, coupled with Pomfrey having to specify which potions she wanted, in what quantity and potency, what time frame and other details, promised at least fifteen minutes to see what or who was behind the privacy curtains and get safely back to her bed before the Matron returned.

Upon seeing what was behind the curtains, Roisin decided that commenting about 'Curiosity and the Cat' would be a bit too harsh, not to mention a terrible pun, and settled with open-mouthed staring. Well, this certainly explained why the privacy curtains were up!

The brains of Gryffindor was now covered in black fur, with yellow eyes, black ears and a long, black tail.

Fortunately, she seemed to be asleep, and Roisin escaped back to her bed as fast as was sensibly possible. Unfortunately, her haste made her just loud enough to wake Hermione up, resulting in a verbal sparring match deteriorating into insults such as 'inbred, blood-obsessed snob' and 'did someone botch a transfiguration charm give your hair the properties of a bush?'. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey returned before they started throwing hexes.

After what seemed like hours of tests, Madam Pomfrey declared Roisin Healthy, but wanted her to stay an extra day for observation. Roisin tried to protest, but was calmly ignored. This was followed by a very distinct snicker from Hermione's general direction. Roisin narrowed her eyes. Was the Know-It-All actively _trying _to piss her off?

Blaise and Desdemona visited after dinner, accompanied by the twins, with the aim of sneaking her some dessert and handing over that day's homework and a copy of the class notes. Desperate for someone to talk to, Roisin put it to the side and started asking questions about what had happened while she had been stuck in the Hospital. Blaise started a narration of the days events, inter-spaced with his own sarcastic remarks, while Roisin listened and waited for Desdemona to notice the Privacy curtains.  
Desdemona may have been a fairly average student, but no one could claim that she wasn't observant. It took her all of a minute to notice the curtains, then the admirable restraint of an extra three minutes until she cracked and asked why they were there.

Lowering her voice to a whisper, Roisin explained in vivid detail, and made them promise not to tell anyone outside of their room-mates. As Mary and Desdemona were both roomed with an incurable gossip (even if Pansy called it 'information networking'), and Draco would feel the need to laugh about it to everyone he met, it was safe to say that rumors would be all over the school by lunch tomorrow.

* * *

After escaping the Hospital Wing, life returned to more or less normal, although Slytherin House remained on high alert at all times. Just because there had been no attacks in the past six weeks didn't mean the rest of the school wasn't waiting to accuse anyone who showed even the slightest bit of suspicious behavior, and didn't have at least two witnesses to their location at all times.

Hostilities even continued through the Imbolc celebration, to the extent that the Slytherin girls finally threw up their hands and celebrated away from the other houses. This time, Roisin and Mary laid out their school robes for the goddess to bless. With things as they were, they wanted luck and protection every moment that they might be in contact with any other castle resident.

They continued to receive schoolwork, and threw themselves into it with an enthusiasm that led to jokes about closet Ravenclaws. Then again, even the teachers were not above the suspicion and paranoia gripping Hogwarts, and more than one student had complained of being marked down. Whether this was by accident or design was beside the point; if the Slytherins were going to be kicked out of Hogwarts, it was not going to be for failure in their academic studies.

The sole exception to this diligent practice was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lockhart would pass anyone who threw in enough flattery about the Greatness of Gilderoy, and had no concept of subtlety.

For this reason, the Slytherins were now holding a weekly contest to see who could come up with the best DADA homework essay, and an overall prize to be given at the end of the year. Points were given for outrageous compliments, subtle insinuations, and unobtrusive pointing out of inconsistencies in the textbooks. Bonus points were awarded for innuendos about Lockhart's sexual preferences and/or immediate ancestry and actually getting away with it. Extra credit was given on the content of essays before the contest had started, responses to the pop quiz in Lockhart's first lesson, and whatever else One could come up with.

Roisin had an impressive lead, having gained a lot of Extra Credit by 'accidentally' adding an extra paragraph written in Irish Gaelic. Lockhart had ignored it, but the Slytherin Prefects had used a very complex deciphering charm and discovered it to be a very detailed 'Ten Things I Hate About You' list.

Blaise, Pansy and Draco were tied for second place, however, while Theo and Millicent were exploring previously undiscovered depths of sarcasm. Unfortunately, the two of them had been a bit too enthusiastic in utilizing their newfound skills, and been caught by Lockhart, resulting in detention in the form of three hours helping to answer the ponce's fan-mail.

Desdemona had taken a different route and not bothered with subtlety. Lockhart had been outraged and taken a visibly unrepentant Desdemona to speak to Professor Snape, who had simply waited until Lockhart was out of the room before awarding Slytherin fifty points for excellence. Professor Lockhart had tried giving her detention next, but quickly discovered that nothing short of Sticking Hexes and Silencing Charms would keep Desdemona still and silent for long, and let her out two-and-a-half hours early.

Harry had found it very amusing when Roisin told him, and passed it on to the Weasley Twins, who were rumored to have adopted the idea among their own classmates.

* * *

The mandrakes were reported to be coming along nicely, having turned moody and secretive. In their Herbology lesson, Professor Sprout explained that as soon as the Mandrake's acne cleared up, they would be ready for re-potting, and then it would only be a few more months until the Petrified students would be restored.

Meanwhile, Lockhart was strutting around as though he were personally responsible for the cessation of the attacks. The Defense lessons had finally moved away from re-enacting Lockhart's exploits, but there was a debate as to whether or not that had been preferable to listening as Lockhart constantly explained why the Monster had stopped attacking. If Roisin had to sit through one more lecture about how "The dastardly beast must have known I was onto it, and fled rather than face my wrath" something was going to get violently hexed.

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_A/N: OK, another chapter up, sorry about the wait. I'm going overseas on the 18__th__, but I'll try to have the next chapter up before then. It's half written already, so don't worry._

_Chapter 19 had 94 hits, but only two reviews. I'm not fishing for compliments, but it helps if people tell me what they like or didn't like, and point out any errors I make. Much appreciated._

_Thanks, _

_Nat._


	21. Valentine's Day, and Another Attack

_Disclaimer: Not again! I don't own Harry Potter.  
__Summary: See Previous chapters.  
__Note: I got a message asking about the chapter numbers. To answer, I am numbering the chapters by year, so this chapter is chapter nine of Year Two._

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

While trying to tune out Lockhart's continued self-praise for stopping the attacks, the Slytherin Second Years, at least, had missed a Very Important Piece of Information. Apparently, Lockhart was convinced that all Hogwarts needed was a good Morale Booster.

The Slytherins discovered this fact on Valentine's Day, when they walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, only to find it covered in pink and red decorations, with heart-shaped confetti raining down from the ceiling. After several seconds in horrified, frozen silence, the Seventh Year Prefects ran to where Professor Snape sat at the High Table, with an expression that could politely be termed murderous.

It didn't take much to convince him to put up a shield to keep the confetti off Slytherin table, but Dumbledore intervened before they could start to get rid of the decorations, sending the Slytherins back to their table amid wailed pleas and protests. Roisin was sure she heart Demetra mutter something about the entire House needing therapy after this. Of course, Lockhart was in need of mental treatment all on his own, but everyone already knew that.

Well, they weren't allowed to do anything about the decorations as a whole, but the whole 'he loves me, he loves me not' with the flower arrangements was acceptable. Besides, it wasn't like anyone minded if the petal plucking was more ripped handfuls, or if the entire arrangement was accidentally hit with a vanishing charm, rather than just the flower.

There was more than one admonishing glare directed at the Slytherin table, but really, if a stray spell made the sickeningly pink ribbons and banners catch on fire, then could you blame the students for pulling them down and stamping on them?

The other House tables were leaving their decorations alone, but few of them looked very happy about it. Looking to the front of the Hall, Roisin could see only four professors who didn't look visibly annoyed with it all.  
Professor McGonagall had a muscle twitching in her cheek, but otherwise appeared calm. Dumbledore was looking as infuriatingly cheerful as always, completely ignoring everyone else's response. The Divination Professor didn't look overly bothered, but that wasn't too surprising, as a number of students had commented that she was never bothered by anything that she hadn't 'seen' in her crystal ball.

The fourth Professor was Lockhart, who was wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations and had obviously orchestrated the whole disaster. The idiot Professor who was now waving his arms for silence. Roisin would be very surprised if he managed avoid being hexed before lunch. Of course, he had managed a feat of House Unity unprecedented in living memory, but since it was 'all of the Houses united in the urge to strangle him, perhaps that wasn't a good thing.

Lockhart stood up, smiling and somehow oblivious to the multitude of glares aimed at him from all directions. "Happy Valentine's Day! And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have arranged this little surprise for all of you – and it doesn't end here!"

Roisin couldn't stop a quiet whimper from escaping. Lockhart had already announced that the collective IQ of Hogwarts had dropped far enough for _forty-six_ people to have sent him Valentine's Cards! How could it possibly get worse than this?

Similar sentiments were echoed up and down the table, and not a few on the other tables, as well. The students found out when Lockhart clapped his hands and the door leading to the Entrance Hall opened to reveal around a dozen decidedly surly-looking dwarves, all wearing golden wings and carrying harps. Since no self-respecting Dwarve would willingly wear such an outfit, Roisin instantly forgave them all blame in the upcoming events. With Lockhart involved, there was little chance of it being anything short of a disaster, as his next words confirmed. "My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart shouted. "They will be roving around the school today collecting your Valentines!"

Roisin exchanged horrified looks with her friends. They had sent each other Valentine's Day cards as friends, as many other students did, but that didn't mean they wanted it shouted all over the school! Their reputation would be ruined! Never mind that both Roisin and Pansy had personally written the Valentines to Blaise and Draco, respectively, this was going to be horrible! Roisin was no stranger to ignoring taunts and slurs, but the last thing she wanted was to expose Blaise to what any boy would consider public humiliation.

Millicent looked almost ready to faint, a surprising look for the usually tough girl. Desdemona seemed to have gone into a state of shock, and the boys didn't look much better as Lockhart continued. "The fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to get into the spirit of the occasion!" (Roisin was equally sure that they _wouldn't, _and were far more likely to exorcise said spirit) "Why not ask Professor Snape to whip you up a Love Potion? And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than anyone I've met!"

Professor Flitwick was also an ex-dueling champion, and from his earlier expression, now hidden by his hands, Roisin was sure that asking him for anything related to love charms would be a Very Bad Idea.

Love Potions were also Completely Out Of The Question. Even disregarding the fact that they were illegal, asking the dour Professor Snape for a Love Potion would be synonymous with asking for a slow and painful death at his hands.

* * *

Lessons that day were a complete and total waste of time. For a start, the 'cupid' dwarves kept barging in to 'serenade' students with Valentines. For another, half the students were missing, hiding to avoid either receiving a Valentine or to avoid the humiliation of being revealed to have sent one.

Roisin had seen the effects of both. On the way to Charms after lunch, Harry had received a Valentine from Ginny Weasley. The girl probably had several talents, but writing poetry was not one of them. With descriptions like '_eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad'_ and hair as _'dark as a blackboard'_, Roisin could hardly blame him for looking ready to die of embarrassment.

Blaise and Pansy had fallen victim to the other side of the scale. Seeing Draco's taunting reaction to Harry's predicament, Pansy had decided to save herself the humiliation by locking herself in the Girl's Dorms and barricading the door, even to the other three who shared the room. Just after Charms, Blaise had followed her example when a Dwarve interrupted the lesson.

Seeing the Dwarve headed toward Roisin, Blaise had gone pale, and tried to hide behind Theo as the 'cupid' announced a Valentine for Roisin. He had looked ready to die as the wretched thing plucked its harp and began.

"'_Twas on the train I came upon her,  
__Sweet and proud as she smiled at me.  
__Her long dark hair fell all around her,  
__Her eyes as wild as a storm-tossed sea.  
__With mind and strength and beauty bright,  
__My friendship will be forever true.  
__My affection is as great as the stars that shine,  
__So will you return my regard for you?"_

Roisin had found it very thoughtful that Blaise had found a verse from one of her favorite books and adapted it for her, but if the riotous laughter was any indication, the rest of the male bystanders didn't agree.

* * *

Thankfully, the dwarves were gone by dinner, but prying Blaise and Pansy out of their rooms to eat still took nearly an hour of coaxing and reassurance that they wouldn't laugh and the valentines had been very nice and thoughtful of them.

If Roisin got anywhere near Lockhart without potential witnesses (potential _accomplices_ didn't count), the results were not going to be pretty.

* * *

Lockhart's latest cruel and unusual idea/experiment aside, things were slowly starting to look up.

Four months had passed since Justin Finch-Fletchly had been Petrified, and people were starting to think that the monster had retired for good. Roisin was still viewed with suspicion, but it was now back to the normal 'Slytherins-are-Scum' suspicion, rather than the previous 'She's-helping-Petrify-people' suspicion.

The Hufflepuffs had backed off, and Peeves had finally gotten bored with his '_Oh Potter/O'Conner, you rotter'_ routine. Best of all, the mandrakes had thrown a wild and raucous party in the greenhouse at the beginning of March. While it left the rest of the castle with a two-day headache, as the Greenhouse walls only muffled the effect of Mandrake-Style Karaoke, Professor Sprout was delighted. "As soon as they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature." She had announced. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the Hospital Wing."

* * *

As with last year, Roisin and Millicent celebrated their Birthdays together. Mary and Seamus had given both one of a set of pendants that would alert each other if the bearer of one was in danger. Desdemona and Millicent had banded together to 'borrow' Roisin's photo album and add to it, along with humorous comments. Roisin had given Millicent a copy of _The Hobbit_, which Millicent had found very amusing. Draco had commented on the wisdom of calling Giant Spiders 'attercop', but was ignored. Pansy and Blaise had each added a charm to add to the bracelet they had been given last year. Pansy had given Roisin a rose and Millicent a bay leaf, while Blaise had found an intricately wrought celestial scene, consisting of sun, moon and stars. Theo had given Roisin a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, and Crabbe and Goyle had gifted her with a packet of Droobles Best Blowing Gum.

Roisin didn't really care for gum, but it would be nice to stick some on Lockhart's chair or something during their next Defense Lesson. She still owed him for Blaise acting skittish around her for weeks after Valentine's Day.

* * *

Easter Holidays drew closer, and the Slytherins had finally managed to mostly repress the memories of the Valentine's Day fiasco, though it had taken a very long time.

This was greatly helped by the fact that the Second Years, at least, now had to concentrate on picking their electives for next year. It wasn't that the subject descriptions were difficult, but it seemed that _everyone_ wanted to offer advice on what to take. Divination sounded interesting, but also very unreliable, and the Professor was reported to be an absolute idiot. Arithmancy seemed to deal with numbers in relation to magic, including, to an extent, a lesser form of divination. Study of Ancient Runes dealt mainly with the runes used in England, but also dabbled in Nordic Runes, hieroglyphs and even some Sumerian and Babylonian.

Care of Magical Creatures sounded all right, though Professor Kettleburn was reputed to be a bit of an enthusiast. There was Muggle Studies, but Roisin didn't see the point, as she was Muggle Raised, and from the Curriculum example, the Wizarding World's information was almost a century out of date, if not more. Roisin would probably be a better teacher than the Current Professor, who insisted that most Muggles used horses or carriages to travel long distances.

There were other courses, such as Household magic, Business or Politics, but these could also be studied as a series of workshops in Sixth Year, so unless you planned to be the Minister of Magic or to immediately marry and become a stay-at-home mother, most opted for the workshops.

You could pick two or three, and Roisin eventually decided on Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Most of the other Second Years decided on the same or similar variations, although Goyle ended up closing his eyes and poking his wand at the elective sheet, then signing up for whatever ones he hit. Desdemona and Theo both signed up for Divination, but when Desdemona started urging others to do the same, Pansy finally threw down her quill and informed her that she didn't need a crystal ball to see that Desdemona was going to get hexed if she didn't sit down and be quiet.

* * *

Life at Hogwarts continued, and the second-to-last Quidditch match, deciding whether or not a House would go on to the final match for the cup, was fast approaching. Given the two playing, Slytherin would be attending, if only to throw taunts. It was Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, and since Harry _wasn't _in the Hospital Wing recovering from a fight against Voldemort, Roisin would also be making one of her rare appearances.

The day of the match dawned bright and sunny; almost perfect conditions for a match. The Quidditch players were looking especially nervous at breakfast, but still managed to eat heartily. Of course, Gryffindor Captain Oliver Wood looked like he would force-feed his team if they didn't eat, so the Lions might have been stuffing themselves as more of a defense measure.

The few hours between breakfast and the match were spent outside, enjoying the sunshine and playing Exploding Snap. Roisin was admittedly hopeless at the game, and contented herself with alternating between a book and watching and making sardonic remarks when something caught on fire.

At eleven o'clock, they packed away the cards and headed toward the Quidditch Pitch. Halfway there, Roisin was tying her hair into a ponytail (the height of the stands and the players zooming around made it bad for loose hair) when she realized that she was missing her protective necklace that her cousins had given her for her birthday.

Muttering something rude under her breath and berating herself for carelessness, Roisin informed her friends that she needed to run back to the Dorms for her necklace. Theo had pointed out that no-one was going to attack when the entire school was out on the Quidditch Pitch, but it would only take a few minute, so Roisin started toward the castle, asking them to save her a seat. She would easily be back in time for the match to start.

* * *

Roisin had grabbed her necklace from her room and was racing back toward the Quidditch pitch when she collided with Hermione Granger. Helping the Gryffindor up, Roisin was about to continue when the other girl shouted, "Wait! The monster is a basilisk; you can't look it in the eye!"

_What in the nine hells…?_ Roisin whirled around. "Are you sure? But how come nobody had died, if that's the case?"

Hermione didn't slow down in the explanation. "If no one looked at it directly, then they would have only been Petrified. Colin saw it through the camera, the area where they found Mrs. Norris was partly flooded…"

Hermione was turning blue, and finally stopped to draw breath, while Roisin continued the line of thought. "Justin was found with Nearly Headless Nick. If he saw the basilisk _through_ the ghost…"

Hermione nodded, but before she could speak again, they were interrupted by a Ravenclaw Prefect. "What are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be at the match with your friends?"

The prefect began to steer them outside, but Hermione stopped her when they were about to turn the corner. "Look around the corner with a mirror first."

The Ravenclaw looked annoyed and was ready to start telling Hermione off. Roisin sighed in exasperation. "Just do it. All that happens is that we take a few extra minutes to get there. We still have time."

The prefect muttered something uncomplimentary, but fished a small mirror out of her pocket and held it out, tilting it at an angle to see around the corner.

The last thing Roisin saw was the reflection of two huge yellow eyes.

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* * *

_A/N: Thought this was a good place to end it...  
Anyway, another chapter is up. Sorry it's short, but I'm going overseas tomorrow, and won't have computer access for about three weeks. The Valentine poem was based on a song from a book called 'the Druid's Tune'. The full original verse is:  
_**_Twas on the plains I came upon her  
_****_A stranger sweet and daring-o  
_****_Her long dark hair fell all around her,  
_****_Her eyes as wild as the winds that blow.  
_****_Wrapped in rose and silver shining,  
_****_Shall I love this lady-o?  
_****_Or will she leave me sad and pining,  
_****_For a face as fair as the winter snow?  
_****_First I held her, and then I kissed her,  
_****_A fire as bright as the starry-o.  
_****_In all my life I never did meet,  
_****_Such a charming, playful lady-o.  
_**___Credit goes to Orla Mellings for writing the book, and all songs and poems contained within it's wonderful pages._

Thanks,

_Nat._


	22. What Happened Next

_Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter.  
Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Few would ever have believed it, but it was possible for a House Common Room to be absolutely silent, as proved by the Slytherins that night.

The cause, as it turned out, was Roisin Dursley-O'Conner. Fifteen minutes before the beginning of the canceled Quidditch Match, Mary had gone running to Professor Snape, the Slytherin Prefects, the Slytherin Second Years, and anyone else she could think of, babbling in absolute panic. Apparently, the Roisin's birthday gift, warning if she was in danger, had started blaring like a small siren. A prefect had promptly been sent with the hysterical girl, and reported back the new _triple_ attack.

The result was mixed. On the good side, most of those who had been blaming Slytherin House for the attacks had backed off. Slytherin may not have been held in high regard, but no-one thought that they would Petrify one of their own.

The downside, of course, was that Roisin had been Petrified. Despite her non-magical parents and brother, not to mention two Gryffindor cousins, Roisin was very well liked in Slytherin, and even those who had been cheering the Heir on in his/her quest, thought that this was taking it a bit far.

House was family, and attacking family was never to be tolerated.

Mary and Seamus had immediately owled Fionna and their parents, with the result of the entire school being treated to the (loud) entrance of a _livid _Fionna O'Conner, who had marched straight up to the Head table and demanded a meeting with Dumbledore.

The Slytherins were all very impressed at how quickly the meeting was granted. The other houses were even jumpier than usual, in case the older woman found out about the 'Slytherin's Heir' accusations. Fionna could get scary when angered.

Mary and Seamus, it turned out, were just as scary when provoked. A Hufflepuff had suggested that Roisin had Petrified herself, to throw people of her and Harry's scent. No one was quite sure of the exact details, only that it involved the best the Weasley Twins had to purloin, and the finesse of the finest minds in Slytherin. Either way, it hadn't been pretty.

The Second-Years, however, were the most effected. Draco had put aside his rivalry long enough to exchange words with Harry, offering assistance if he found out who was behind the Petrifications. This had caused several eavesdroppers to look as though _they _had been Petrified, and one had walked straight into a wall, but Harry had only nodded, accepting the truce over a mutual friend.

Crabbe and Goyle were eating everything in sight, while Blaise had almost stopped eating, spending every spare moment in the Library with Theo and Millicent, trying to find out what had caused the Petrification.

Desdemona was un-naturally quiet, moping around at the loss of a best friend and, quite frankly, one of the few who would put up with her hyper ways without trying to hex her still within the first five minutes. Pansy frequently burst into tears and had given up taunting the other houses.

* * *

The truce between Gryffindor and Slytherin was not put to the test until several weeks after the latest attack, when Harry and Ron asked for assistance.

The school had been reeling from a double loss, although this time, the Heir of Slytherin had no direct hand in it. The Hogwarts Board of Governors had suspended Dumbledore for failing to stop the attacks, or discover the culprit behind them.

The rest of Hogwarts felt that this was rather counter-productive; as the last thing Hogwarts needed right now was the chaos that came with the change in leadership. The lesser loss but stronger shock was the news that Hagrid had been thrown in Azkaban and accused as the one behind the attacks. The Gryffindors were horrified. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were keeping their opinions close, but seemed mixed on the concept.

The Slytherins spent several hours in a shocked stupor. _Hagrid,_ the Heir of Slytherin? It was nothing short of unthinkable. Everyone with any connection in the Ministry of Magic instantly sent off owls, demanding to know what was going on. The reply was a mixed relief and dismay. Hagrid's case was at worst pure speculation and at best circumstantial evidence. Sadly, Hagrid made a very good scapegoat and there was not a lot anyone could do about it unless the real heir was caught.

While Gryffindor and Slytherin were united in their staunch disbelief of Hagrid's guilt, they were firmly divided on the topic of Dumbledore. From a practical point of view, a shake-up and change of power was in no way a good thing at the current point in time. From a more personal stance, however, the Slytherins held grudges, and had little reason to love Dumbledore, and would welcome a head that wouldn't stand by as Slytherin was discriminated against.

Dumbledore aside, Ron, Harry and Seamus O'Conner joined the Second Year Slytherins trying to convince Madam Pomfrey to let them visit the Petrified victims. Sadly, not even this nearly unprecedented display of House Unity could move the stern Mediwitch, and visitors remained forbidden.

Draco, much to even his dismay, was stuck keeping up appearances, which mostly amounted to strutting around acting like he owned the school and pretending to be over the moon about the attacks. In the short term, Draco should not have been such a good actor, as even Pansy had to be forcibly restrained from hitting him.

Given the size of the blonde girl's crush on Draco, this was quite an accomplishment, almost eclipsing the fact that it had been Seamus Finnigan who had stopped her.

* * *

The next open show of alliance came after a particularly trying defense lesson, which had left everyone more than ready to introduce Lockhart to the concept of severe bodily harm.

It started when Lockhart practically bounced into the room, his expression clearly stating that they must be mad for looking so upset. "Come now, why all the long faces?"

The class exchanged resigned looks, united in exasperation. Theo wore a very bleak expression at Lockhart's cheerful outlook, deftly palming Desdemona's wand before she could throw any curses.

Meanwhile, Lockhart was still speaking in a tone most often used when speaking to a very dim five-year-old. "Don't you children realize the danger has passed? The culprit has been taken away!"

It was shy Neville Longbottom's turn to make a desperate grab for Millicent's wand, Dean Thomas covering the scuffle with a loud "Says who?"

"My dear young man, the Minister wouldn't have arrested Hagrid if he wasn't absolutely sure he was guilty."

Ron Weasley took up the challenge this time, drawing Lockhart away from where Crabbe had been about to lunge at him, restrained by Draco, Blaise and Theo. "Oh, yes he would."

Lockhart's buoyant expression was slowly giving way to annoyance. "I flatter myself, Mr. Weasley, that I know a touch more about the Minister of Magic than you do."

Blaise was about to comment that Lockhart did nothing _but _flatter himself, rather than doing anything useful, but Lavender Brown kicked him under the table before he could say anything. Draco nearly said that Lockhart didn't know the first thing about tying his shoe laces, much less the inner workings of the Ministry, but found Pansy's hand covering his mouth.

The rest of the lesson was spent listening to Lockhart drop less than subtle hints about how he had known it all along, that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin, and how glad he was that the whole mess was now resolved. On the other hand, they were finally learning something useful in defense.

Honing the quick reflexes needed to stop each other from doing something drastic and painful counted as Defense, sort of.

* * *

After the lesson, the Slytherins were more than glad to hand a furious Desdemona over to Harry and Ron at the back of the line as Lockhart took them to dinner, as the two Gryffindors wanted to talk to her. Following the other Slytherins to the front of the line, Draco carefully flext an arm, testing a muscle strained from holding Desdemona back; it was times like this that he missed Roisin, and specifically her ability to calm Desdemona without the use of a stunning charm, the most.

Back in the Gryffindor section, Harry was explaining things to Desdemona in a hushed voice. The hyperactive girl was shocked into a rare silence at the revelation that they had found a potential clue as to who was behind the attacks and very apprehensive that following it up meant a trip into the Forbidden Forest. Still, if it meant getting her hands on those responsible for attacking her best friend, then Desdemona was all for it.

* * *

That night found two Gryffindors and a Slytherin sneaking out of Hogwarts and into the Forbidden Forest.

Desdemona paid little attention to what the two boys were saying as they crept across the grounds; she had much more important things on her mind, such as the fact that Potter owned an Invisibility Cloak! Another important thing was the fact that while this certainly explained several things, Potter had also been sneaky enough to get an Oath not to tell anyone about his method of getting out un-noticed before revealing the Cloak to her.

Roisin had obviously been rubbing off on him, for Gryffindor's Golden Boy to come up with such a Slytherin way of ensuring her silence.

Desdemona's night quickly went downhill when they made a quick stop at the Grounds keeper's hut to hide the Cloak and collect a very large boar-hound. Desdemona_ hated _dogs.

After that, things only got worse. Apparently, the rumors about a flying/enchanted car that Desdemona had scoffed at earlier in the year had been closer to the mark than anyone outside of Gryffindor had thought. On the positive side, Potter and Weasley were the only ones to see the car in the forest, so there was no-one to gloat about Desdemona being wrong.

Not five minutes after running into the car, the three of them were caught by Acromantulas. If Desdemona made it out of the Forbidden Forest alive, she was going to murder those Gryffindor idiots, even if she had to resurrect them again first!

Spiders the size of cart-horses dragged/carried them off to a dark hollow, surrounded with spider webs and with a huge webbed dome in the center. The three humans and one cowering dog were dumped on the ground and left to try and think up a last prayer as one of the spiders scurried over to the dome. It was hard to tell under all the clicking pincers, but it seemed like he was calling someone by the name of Aragog.

Desdemona nearly fainted at the reply. An aging spider the size of a small elephant crawled out of the dome. It's milky white eyes showed it was blind, but Desdemona found this less than comforting, considering that they were still surrounded by spiders who _could_ see.

Desdemona shook herself out of her panic and focused on the situation at hand. Oh Gods. Hagrid _knew_ these creatures? To the extent that they called him by name? What was going on here?

The temporary saving grace was that Potter could claim friendship with Hagrid, and that Aragog seemed to regard Hagrid as a friend, judging by the concern in his voice when Potter desperately shouted that Hagrid was in trouble.

Again, Desdemona firmly reminded herself that she was a Slytherin, and Slytherins did not show weakness. She was probably going to spend the rest of the night cowering under her blankets in the nice, safe dormitory, and would probably need therapy if she made it out of here alive, but for now she needed to pull herself together and concentrate. The whole reason for coming here was to find out about the Heir of Slytherin, and she would learn nothing if she surrendered to blind panic!

Giving herself a mental slap, Desdemona forced herself to focus. Harry was expanding on his claim that Hagrid was in trouble. "They think, up at the school, that Hagrid's been setting a- a- something on students. They've taken him to Azkaban."

That was probably not the best thing to say, as Aragog and the other Acromantulas were now furiously clicking their pincers in anger. "But that was years ago. Years and years ago. I remember it well. That is why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I _was what dwelled in what they called the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the chamber and set me free."

Desdemona rolled her eyes as Harry asked if Aragog _didn't_ come from the Chamber of Secrets. If Aragog was the monster of the chamber, but he was stuck out here in the Forbidden Forest, how would the Heir be carrying out his attacks now? Aragog confirmed this, although with less sarcasm. "I! I was not born in the castle. I came from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was only an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the Forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown."

Yes, Desdemona _could_ see how Aragog's children had grown, and really wished that she _couldn't_, as seeing the Acromantulas involved being within eating distance of the carnivorous arachnids. Ron was hovering on the verge of catatonic with fear, but Harry managed to summon the last of the famed Gryffindor courage, to ask one more question. "So you didn't kill anybody?"

"Never!" The old spider's denial was fierce, and Desdemona decided that she must have imagined the faintest hint of a sulk in his tone. "It would have been my nature, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never say any part of the castle but the cupboard where I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet."

OK, now that that was settled, on to the real question. Desdemona listened as Harry continued in his role as spokesperson. "But then – Do you know what _did_ kill the girl? Because whatever it is, it's back and it's attacking people again!"

Anything else Harry might have said was drowned by a sudden wave of angry clicking and rustling from the spiders. Aragog sounded angry as he fiercely rebutted Harry's question. "We do not speak of it! We do not name it! That thing that lives in the Chamber is an enemy that we spiders fear above all others! Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go when I felt its presence. I did not tell even him what it was, although he asked me, many times!"

Aragog was backing into the dome again, and neither Harry nor Desdemona felt it wise to press the topic. Their escape was cut off, however, when Aragog pointed out that while no acromantula would harm Hagrid, that protection did not include anyone else who wandered in. As the spiders surrounded then, pressing closer, Desdemona drew her wand, thanking all of her lucky stars individually for the fact that the older Slytherins were still giving the younger years lessons in defense.

Demetra had claimed that spells depended greatly on the will of the caster, and the will to get back to Hogwarts alive was more than enough motivation, as far as Desdemona was concerned. "_Stupefy!"_

A beam of red light shot out of her wand and hit a spider, who dropped like a lead balloon. Beside her, Desdemona could see that Harry had his wand out, ready to fight, but it became un-necessary as Weasley's car made another appearance. It thundered down the slope into the hollow, horns blaring, lights blazing as the spiders either scattered or were sent flying. The car stopped in front of them, and the three students wasted no time in grabbing the dog and getting out of there.

* * *

Desdemona paid no attention as the car sped back through the forest and stopped near the Grounds keeper's hut. Opening the door, she staggered out and sat down heavily on a nearby tree stump. The boar hound had shot out of the car faster than lightning and, by the sound of it, was now whimpering under a blanket. Desdemona could certainly sympathize.

Harry had ducked inside to get the Invisibility Cloak, and Weasley was busy throwing up in the pumpkin patch. "Follow the spiders, he says." Weasley straightened up, wiping his mouth. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive!"

Desdemona was sure that whole-hearted agreement with a Gryffindor was against some ethical or moral code, but she was forced to concur with Weasley. If Hagrid ever got out of Azkaban, she was going to kill him!

* * *

The rest of the Second Years had been waiting up for Desdemona, but managed to restrain themselves until the shaken girl had been settled in her bed with a mug of hot chocolate. She wasn't going to sleep that night anyway, so there was no harm in giving her caffeine. With Millicent sitting beside her reassuringly, Desdemona outlined the important parts of what had happened, inwardly fuming that Potter had demanded that Oath. The others were shocked and mildly horrified that there was a colony of Acromantulas in such close proximity to a school, but given Desdemona's current state, they chose to gloss over that as much as possible.

The bad news was that they still couldn't prove anything, and no authority figure, school or Ministry, was going to go and question a family of Acromantulas just because a twelve-year-old said so. The good news was that the conversation with Aragog had given them several new areas to search in regards to the culprit behind the attacks.

The Monster of Slytherin was long-lived, as Aragog mentioned that the previous attacks had been a good fifty years ago. There were several magical creatures who were potentially deadly, but few that an acromantula would flee from. The monster could kill, but so far the victims had only been Petrified. This narrowed the possibilities down a great deal, and the Slytherins would start work on it as soon as possible.

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* * *

_A/N: Next chapter up and nearing the end of Year Two! I am so sorry I haven't updated before now. First I was overseas for almost three weeks with very limited computer access, and once I got back I had to go running all over the place to get ready for TAFE._

_Anyway, chapter 22 is up now, and if you review I'll do my best not to take so long with chapter 23._

_Thanks,_

_Nathalia_


	23. Hi ho, hi ho, Off To The Chamber We Go

_Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Still shaken over what had happened the previous night, Desdemona missed breakfast, but had cheered up by the time afternoon classes rolled around. Truce/Alliance or not, given the events of last night, a nice long hour or so of seeing Gryffindors suffer through Potions cheered her up immensely. After facing down about a hundred giant spiders, the sight of other people flinching from Snape's glare, which was at least not life-threatening, made Desdemona feel quite a bit better.

Desdemona's good mood, along with everyone else's, was spoiled later that evening, when Professor Snape came to the Slytherin Common Room at six fifteen for the dual purpose of making sure that everyone was obeying curfew, and to inform them that their exams would be starting on the first of June. Considering that the first of June was only nine days away, and that no one ever looked forward to exams, this news was not greeted with any particular enthusiasm.

Protests were quickly silenced by Professor Snape's cold look. "The point of keeping Hogwarts open, despite the attacks, is so that you can receive an education. Receiving an education includes reviewing your progress at the end of the year, meaning that you will be sitting for your exams. Despite recent events, I expect nothing less than excellence from all of you."

Given that a large part of the school year had been spent with the added strain of near-constant accusations regarding the Chamber of Secrets, and that they were being forced to rely on older students and independent study groups for one of their core subjects, excellence was going to be a very high goal for most of Slytherin.

Looking around at the dejected faces of his year mates, Theo sighed and began planning how many books he could get out of the library at one time. The next nine days were going to be spent in whirlwind of studying, he just knew it.

* * *

Theo's prediction of the days between the exam announcement and the exams themselves turned out to be an understatement.

Along with the general Atmosphere of Doom that always accompanied the time immediately before exams, the Second Years had even more trouble concentrating, as the Year-Mate they counted on for obscure facts and references was currently in the Hospital Wing, a fact they were sharply reminded of whenever they turned to ask her something, and saw only an empty seat.

All of Slytherin spent every spare moment camped out in the library, which seemed to hold far more books now that Hermione Granger was unavailable to check them all out. When curfew rolled around at six o'clock, the Slytherins took as many books as they could back to the Common Room, and continued studying, frequently falling asleep over their tables, with a book for a pillow. They were also receiving extra, reinforced glares again, as the more study materials they commandeered, the less were available to the rest of the school. After the third day of this, angry mutters sprung up that the Slytherins were trying to make sure they got good grades by making sure that the rest of the school had no access to extra study materials.

The Slytherins pointed out the fact that it had originated with the more study-obsessed Ravenclaws, and was therefore an over-reaction, laughing the rumor off. Just because it was true didn't make it any less amusing.

* * *

After six days of near-constant studying amid quiet wails of doom and distress, the entire school had a dramatic lifting of spirits from an announcement at Breakfast on Friday. Around the middle of the meal, ensuring that everyone who would be attending breakfast was there, Professor McGonagall stood up, calling for people's attention. "I have good news."

Instead of falling silent, the Great Hall erupted in cheers, nearly everyone speculating to what the good news could be. Several people from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor shrieked with delight. "Dumbledore's coming back!"

Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood drew several rolled eyes from every House when he jumped to his feet. "Quidditch Matches are back on!"

The cheers intensified when a group of Ravenclaws squealed. "You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!"

It turned out to be none of the above, but still wonderful news. Professor McGonagall waited for the noise to die down before continuing her announcement. "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for harvesting at last. Potions classes are cancelled for today," she paused again for more cheering, "While Professor Snape brews the Mandrake Draught, and those who have been Petrified should be awake by tonight. I hardly need to remind you that one of these poor people may be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I hope that this dreadful year will end with our capture of the culprit."

Professor McGonagall sat down to another bout of resounding cheers, and the students finished breakfast and set off to classes in higher spirits than they had been in for over a week.

* * *

The only thing that managed to put a damper on their day was the unfortunate fact that they had to put up with one last Defense lesson, and as Parvati pointed out in an exasperated sigh, Lockhart had somehow managed to reach new levels of annoying cheerfulness. Pansy had been heard to mutter that the unholy powers were going to need to invent a new level of Hell when someone finally killed Lockhart, but that was beside the point.

Aside from the usual grumbling at being forced to listen to Lockhart praise himself, interjected with frequent comments on how the danger had passed, with insinuations that he was to be credited, the lesson went as smoothly as could be expected. The only thing of real note happened when Lockhart was escorting them to History of Magic, still talking. "Mark my words; the first thing out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be '_it was Hagrid'_. Frankly, I'm astounded that Professor McGonagall still thinks that all these security measures were necessary."

Busy giggling over Draco's remark that Lockhart's main motivation for protesting the security measures was that it left less time for him to fuss over his personal appearance, the Slytherins nearly missed Potter agreeing with him. Millicent stumbled and knocked into Desdemona, who nearly crashed to the floor. Theo cursed when all seven of Goyle's Defense books landed on his foot as the aforementioned boy dropped them in surprise.

Possibly surprised that someone was offering agreement, rather than a rude and/or sarcastic remark, Lockhart thanked him graciously and continued complaining. Another comment from Weasley had jaws dropping as Lockhart left them a few corridors away from the History of Magic classroom and hurried off. Looking around, Millicent spotted Potter and Weasley slipping away while everyone was distracted over Lockhart's desertion.

Luckily, it wasn't long before Professor Snape found them, returning from delivering a group of Hufflepuffs to their next class. A quick explanation drew a dark and faintly threatening look from Professor Snape, promising trouble for Lockhart, and no one noticed the absence of two Gryffindors as they were led to their next lesson, resigning themselves to another lesson of sheer boredom.

Just as they were leaving History of Magic for lunch, a dreadful announcement came. Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the halls, commanding all students to return to their Common Rooms immediately. Knowing that Professor Snape actually _would _tell them everything, rather than skim details to 'protect' them, the Slytherins complied, trying not to dwell on the sinking feeling in everyone's stomachs.

It was even worse than they could have imagined. There had been a final attack, but this time the victim had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets itself. This had been the straw that broke the Abraxan's back, and Hogwarts was being closed. The students would be taking the train home first thing tomorrow morning.

* * *

The Slytherins had packed their bags and most were wandering around the Common Room in a state of mild shock. Draco and Desdemona had gone to the owlery; Draco to send a letter to his parents, and Desdemona because no-one was going anywhere alone, and someone needed to carry everyone else's letters. Other Slytherins also wanted to inform their families, rather than let them find out via the morning paper, but figured that two students were less likely to be caught than a whole flock.

Pansy and Millicent were still in their Dorm, as were the O'Conner Twins, so it was Blaise who answered the frantic knocking on the Wall Entrance. Seeing Harry Potter in the Slytherin Dungeons was a shock, but nothing compared to when Potter and Weasley explained that they were here to find Draco. Raising an eyebrow, Blaise informed them that Draco was unavailable, and could he help them with whatever it was?

It turned out that Weasley's sister had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets, and that the two Gryffindors thought they knew not only where to find the entrance to the Chamber, but also what the monster within was. In a surprising move for the House of Lions, they had the sense to realize that they could use back-up, and Draco had offered help on anything to do with stopping the attacks.

The shocks just seemed to keep on coming. Blaise had known that Draco had offered help, but there was no telling when Draco would be back. Blaise stepped out into the corridor, closing the wall behind him. "I'm not even going to ask how you found our Common Room. I don't know when Draco will be back, but Roisin is my friend too. I'm with you."

Potter nodded his acceptance. "Go grab your wand. We'll wait for you here."

Blaise ran up to his Dorm as fast as possible, nearly knocking over Pansy and Millicent as they made their way back down. He grabbed his wand, and then hesitated for a moment. Darting to his trunk, he grabbed _Breaks with a Banshee_ and rifled through the pages. After the first Quidditch game, Blaise, Roisin and Desdemona had – _confiscated_ – some photos from Colin Creevy. Among these were a number of photos of Lockhart covered in mud, and dyed a bright purple. It was unlikly that Lockhart would go down to the Chamber of Secrets willingly, however, and a little _encouragment - _say, these pictures on the front page of the _Prophet_, if he didn't co-operate - wouldn't hurt.

* * *

In hindsight, they really shouldn't have been surprised when they tracked down Lockhart and found him in a frenzy of packing. Potter's voice was surprisingly cold as he asked if Lockhart was going somewhere. Lockhart looked very uncomfortable. "Er, well, yes. Urgent call…unavoidable… got to go…"

Blaise rolled his eyes. Honestly, a child could see through that excuse, did Lockhart actually think that they would believe him? Weasley just looked angry. "What about my sister?"

It had been Weasley's sister who had been taken? No wonder he was so upset. Lockhart didn't seem to share Weasley's concern as he continued packing. "Well, as to that – most unfortunate. No one regrets more than I –"

This was taking things too far. No one in the school believed that Lockhart was in any way competent, but to not even show concern when they were supposed to be trying to help a student who was probably going to die if something was not done? It seemed that today was going to have many agreements between Gryffindor and Slytherin, as Potter and Weasley looked ready to kill something. "But you're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You can't leave now, with all the Dark Arts stuff going on!"

As Blaise had expected, Lockhart just kept mumbling excuses, avoiding their eyes. "Well, I must say… when I took the job… never expected… nothing in the job description…"

Blaise had always been of the opinion that having the courage to charge in head first, playing the hero, was vastly over-rated, but this cowardliness was just insane! Potter looked frankly disbelieving. It was no secret that Potter harbored an extreme dislike of the Professor, but apparently even he had not thought him capable of this. "You mean you're running away? After all that stuff you did in your books?"

Again, Lockhart avoided their gaze, settling for a delicate, "Books can be misleading."

Potter's eyes flashed with anger. Blaise decided that he would really rather not be on Potter's bad side. "You wrote them!"

Blaise knew it. Weasley knew it. Hell, even the portraits knew why Potter was upset. Lockhart, however, seemed to think that Potter was just being petulant. "My dear boy, do use your common sense! My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done those things! No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from were-wolves. He'd look terrible on the front cover, absolutely no dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the banshee had a hair lip! I mean, come on…"

Blaise couldn't wait to see how the other Slytherins reacted to all this when Roisin woke up so he could tell her. There would be sarcastic remarks, gloating and who knew what else. Plus, the opportunity to blackmail the blonde ponce? Priceless. Blaise started paying more attention, trying to remember every last detail. Potter was looking incredulous. "So you've just been taking credit for what a lot of other people have done?"

How Lockhart managed to pull off an expression of righteous indignation, Blaise would never know. "Harry, Harry, it's not nearly as simple as all that. There was work involved. I had to track people down, ask them exactly how they did it. Then I had to make them forget ever doing it. Luckily, I've always had a gift for Memory Charms…"

Lockhart banged the lid of his trunks down and locked them, before turning back to the three boys, wand in hand. "I think that's everything. Just one thing left. Sorry boys, but I have to Memory Charm you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place, I'd never sell another book…"

Lockhart's posturing and flourishing movements would be his downfall one day, Blaise knew. Potter yelled the Disarming Charm before Lockhart could get off any spells and Blaise banished it toward Weasley, who threw it out the window.

OK, this was getting ridiculous. Potter and Weasley promptly steamrolled (Blaise had never quite understood the phrase that Roisin had once used, but it seemed appropriate) over the rest of Lockhart's arguments, and the three students marched him off, ignoring any further protests.

* * *

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was two floors, three moving staircases and a vanishing step away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. It was a nerve-wracking journey, especially as they had to keep an eye on Lockhart and pay constant attention to their surroundings to avoid notice.

Lockhart started protesting again when they reached the bathroom, citing that it would be completely unprofessional for him to enter a female bathroom. Potter and Weasley seemed of the opinion that Lockhart's protests didn't even deserve the dignity of a response. Blaise told him to shut up and threw in Professor Snape's patented Glare. Lockhart stopped protesting.

That was one obstacle down, and now they faced the next: Moaning Myrtle herself. The ghost scowled upon seeing them, but her usual commotion was forestalled by Potter asking her how she died. Blaise failed to see how such a question could be taken as a compliment, but Moaning Myrtle acted as though she had just been complimented by the Queen. "Oh, it was dreadful. I died right here in this very bathroom. I was hiding, you see, because Olive Hornby had been teasing my about my glasses. The door was locked and I was crying, and then I heard someone come in. They said something funny, I think it was in a different language, but what _really_ caught my attention was that it was a boy talking. Can you imagine, a boy in a girl's bathroom?"

Myrtle drifted off for a few moments. Lockhart jumped at the opportunity. "Like the lady says, boys in a girl's bathroom. Ha. Let's just leave, shall we."

Potter and Weasly ignored him and focused on Moaning Myrtle. Blaise shot a locking spell at the door and kept his wand trained on the Defense Professor, trying very hard not to curse the idiot. Just a little slip of the wand…

Lockhart was saved by Moaning Myrtle getting back on topic, glowing more than usual with so much attention being paid to her. "So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own bathroom, and then… I died!"

Good for her, but not really confirmation of what they needed to know. Thankfully, Potter was a little more diplomatic in his approach of the situation, and forewent the sarcasm. "How?"

Moaning Myrtle lowered her voice dramatically. "I don't know. I just remember seeing a pair of great yellow eyes. My body seized up, and then I was floating away… But then I came back. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, after all. Oh, she was sorry she ever laughed at my glasses."

A mindset that Blaise could certainly appreciate, but still beside the point. Years of association with Desdemona stopped him from trying to strangle the ghost. "Where did you see the eyes?"

Moaning Myrtle waved a hand toward the sinks. "Somewhere over there."

Blaise closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. Meanwhile, Potter and Weasley had hurried over to the sinks and were examining them in minute detail. Blaise approached the sinks just in time to hear Potter hiss something in Parseltongue. Whatever he said must have worked, as the sink slid away to reveal a man-sized hole in the ground, leading down into blackness.

Determination aside, Blaise felt slightly queasy at the idea of going down there. Weasley looked slightly faint. To his credit, Potter showed nothing but steely resolve. "I'm going down there."

Weasley nodded. "Me too."

Blaise inclined his head. "Can't say I'm thrilled, but I've come this far already."

In hindsight, Lockhart would have done better to just slip away quietly, as they had almost forgotten that he was even there. "Well, you don't seem to need me any more, so why don't I just…"

He trailed off unhappily as he once again became the focus of three wands. "You can go first."

Lockhart slowly approached the hole, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else. Blaise was inclined to agree, but not so much that he was willing to send someone else down first. Potter pushed him in with a distinct lack of sympathy for Lockhart's distress. Potter was next, and Blaise followed him, leaving Weasley to bring up the rear.

* * *

The pipe was cold and slimy, lined with something squishy that Blaise would rather not think about. It didn't take long before Blaise knew that they were well below the dungeons. He grimaced as a sharp bend sent his elbow, hard, against the wall of the pipe. Just as he was beginning to worry about ever getting out of the pipe, it leveled off and he stumbled out, moving aside just in time to avoid getting hit by a flying Weasley.

The tunnel they had landed in was just as damp and slimy as the pipe, but at least they had room to avoid the worst of it. The three students lit their wands, and instantly wished that they hadn't. The first steps yielded a loud_ crunch_, and a closer look at the floor showed thousands of tiny skeletons. Trying very hard not to imagine his own potential fate, Blaise took a deep breath and continued walking, staying close to the others.

Hopefully they could just grab the Weasley girl and get out of this place.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: I looked up the dates for 1992 and 1993, and the 1__st__ of June was on a Monday and Tuesday respectively. As the Second Years had classes the day before, we can set the exam announcement as being at least Tuesday, making it six days before exams. I decided to be nice and pretend that the announcement came on a Friday, giving them nine days, rather than a week.  
Anyway, yet another chapter up, and only about one more to go before we finish the year. Reviews provide direction and encouragement, so leave one to tell me what you think.  
Thanks,  
Nathalia_


	24. The End Of The Second Year

_Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be so worried about my final finances and computing grade, and would be able to have more time to write. Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter and the Associated works.  
__Summary: See previous chapters, I'm getting sick of typing summaries all the time._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Blaise was sincerely regretting his decision to follow Potter and Weasley to the Chamber of Secrets. Again. Actually, this was the nineteenth time he had mentally regretted coming along.

The tiny skeletons were becoming more and more frequent, the dripping walls were severely straining his nerves, being covered with slime and muck was not fun, and if Lockhart didn't stop whimpering, Blaise was not going to be responsible for his actions. They rounded yet another bend, and Blaise was contemplating the wisdom of hexing Lockhart now, or waiting so that the other Slytherins could join in when he heard Weasley say, "Harry, there's something up there…"

Draco disliked agreeing with Gryffindors on principle. Most Slytherins disliked agreeing with Gryffindors due to House Rivalries. Blaise wasn't quite that bad, but in this case, hated agreeing with Weasley even more than usual. It was hard to make out, but there was definately a very large something ahead of them, lying across the tunnel. Blaise brought his regret counter up to an even twenty as Potter cringed. "Maybe it's asleep?"

Very slowly, the three boys edged forward, wands held high. Potter and Weasley had theirs lit, trying to get a look without waking the Basilisk. Blaise had his wand in a dueling grasp, ready to fire of a blinding hex if it did wake up. A few feet away from the Basilisk, they all breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing.

It was only a snakeskin. A vivid, poisonous green snakeskin at least twenty feet long, yes, but not a living, breathing Basilisk. Blaise made a mental note to get Roisin to convince Harry to teach her the Parseltongue word for 'Open'. If they got out of here alive, some Basilisk skin dueling robes would be wonderful, and there was easily enough skin for several pairs. Maybe Roisin would appreciate a set, in case Potter managed to drag her into any more of his insane adventures…

Blaise decided that he would ponder that later, and pay attention to the here and now. Lockhart had just tackled Weasley, and was straightening up, wand in hand. Having seen Weasley's broken wand in action, Blaise wondered just what Lockhart thought he was going to accomplish with it. Unfortunately, Lockhart seemed to be beyond reasoning. "The adventure ends here, boys! I shall take a bit of this skin up to the school; tell them that I was too late to save the girl, and that you three tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories! _Obliviate!_"

Blaise threw himself backwards as the wand exploded like Longbottom's cauldron in Potions class, rolling with the impact. The blast had thrown everyone backwards, and the ceiling was starting to crumble. Scrambling to his feet, Blaise cast the strongest Full-Body Shield charm he knew and ran, trying to avoid the larger rocks. Finally out of immediate danger, Blaise looked around, seeing Potter beside him and a solid wall of broken rock behind them, cutting off their exit. "Damn."

Potter was a bit more articulate. "Ron! Are you OK, Ron?"

Weasley's voice was muffled, but he didn't seem to be hurt. "I'm here! I'm OK. This git's not, though, he got blasted by the wand."

There was a thudding noise and an older voice yelping 'ow!' It sounded like Lockhart had just been kicked, probably on the shin. Weasley's voice sounded slightly desperate now. "What should we do? We can't get through, it'll take ages…"

Potter looked up at the cracked ceiling, down in the general direction of Weasley's voice, then down the tunnel. "Wait there. Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on. If I'm not back in an hour…"

There was a long pause before Weasley's voice answered again. "I'll try and shift some of this rock. So you can – so you can get back through. And, Harry…"

Potter cut him off. "See you in a bit." He turned to look at Blaise. "I need you to stay and help them. If I don't come back, you all need to get out of here."

It looked like Blaise was going to be forced to admit a grudging respect for Potter. "Right. We'll have it cleared by the time you get back. Be careful down there, because if you don't come back, we're coming after you. Just in case, what's the Parseltongue word for open?"

Potter blinked in surprise, and then gave a low hiss. "Not to sound ungrateful, but why would you care what happens to me?"

Blaise repeated the hiss several times, until Potter nodded that he had it right, and then shrugged. "Because you are probably the best hope we have of fixing this bloody fiasco. Because Roisin likes you and I care about her and she gets upset and worried when you get nearly killed. Because she'd rip me apart if she discovered that I didn't help. Take your pick."

Potter gave a faint smile, and then turned to walk down the tunnel, while Blaise went back to the problem of shifting the rocks. His mental review of possible spells was interrupted by a quiet snicker from the other side. Blaise rolled his eyes at Weasley's amused tone. "O'Conner would rip you apart? You're scared of a twelve year old girl?"

Knowing that Weasley couldn't see him, so it wasn't worth the effort, Blaise refrained from glaring in the general direction of the redhead's voice. "She's thirteen, actually, and were you there when she hexed Lockhart for removing Potter's bones? Slytherin girls are never to be trifled with, in case you've forgotten the Dueling Club Disaster."

A faint pause from the other side. "Point taken. How do you want to move all this rock, anyway? I don't think we should risk any more spells, given the state of the ceiling."

Unfortunately, he had a point. "Agreed, it looks like manual labor is our best bet, but we need to be careful. How about one of us digs for five minutes or so, then we switch. You can get Lockhart to help, too. About time the moron did something useful for a change."

Another slight pause, then an affirmative reply. "We'll start. I'll give you a call when it's your turn. Right, you lazy git, get up and help me here."

The last bit was obviously to Lockhart. Now all Blaise needed was something to occupy him for five or ten minutes. Glancing around, Blaise spotted the Basilisk skin and pulled out the dagger that he, like many other Slytherins, had taken to carrying around since the attack on Roisin. A joint gift from his brothers, one a Ward-Crafter and Breaker, one who researched Magical Beasts, it was silver, magically crafted and charmed to cut through anything, up to and including dragon-scale. Hopefully it would be enough to harvest Basilisk skin.

Mentally shrugging to himself, Blaise decided that it couldn't hurt to find out, and set to work. At least it was something to do until Weasley called for him to take his turn digging.

* * *

Blaise had alternated digging with Weasley and Lockhart, waiting as time inched past. They had made a sizable gap in the rock, enough for at least a teenager to get through, although a full grown adult might have had some trouble. Blaise was tugging his shirt back down, after winding the long strip of Basilisk-skin around his waist and torso for concealment, when Potter and the female Weasley came into view.

Both were soaked and covered in muck, looking completely exhausted. Potter was also sporting both a fair bit of blood and a gleaming sword with a ruby-encrusted hilt. Blaise decided to ask about that later, as for the second time in as many hours, Blaise was nearly bowled over by Weasley, this time running toward his sister. "Ginny! You're alive, I don't believe it! What happened?"

Whatever had happened, it couldn't have been good, as the Weasley girl held her brother off, sobbing. Even so, Weasley didn't stop grinning with relief. "But you're OK now, Ginny. It's over now, it's – Where did that bird come from?"

It said a lot about Weasley's concern for his sister that it took him this long to notice the glorious phoenix riding on Potter's shoulder. The bird wasn't exactly subtle. Blaise rolled his eyes, recognising it from Roisin's description of Dumbledore's office when she had been escorted there after Heir of Slytherin accusations. "It's a Phoenix, you daft Gryffindor. Probably Dumbledore's, though that still begs the question of what the bird is doing down here."

Potter looked startled. "How did you – never mind, I suppose Roisin told you. Yes, he's Dumbledore's. His name is Fawkes."

Weasley shook his head, gaping at the weapon in Potter's hand. "And how come you've got a sword?"

Potter just shook his head. "I'll explain when we get out of here." Weasley started to protest. Potter shook his head again. "Later. Where's Lockhart?"

Weasley smirked, indicating over his shoulder. "Back over there. He's in a bad way, though. Come and see."

Blaise's interaction with Lockhart since before the cave-in had consisted of accidentally-on-purpose jabbing his hand with a sharp piece of rock when they first broke through. Making sure that the Basilisk skin he had collected was safely tucked away, Blaise followed Potter and the Weasley girl through the hole, eager to see precisely _what _had happened to Lockhart.

* * *

Led by Fawkes, they made their way back to the pipe, where Lockhart was sitting, humming a placid tune and gazing around dreamily. Blaise couldn't help but laugh at the irony; Lockhart had been blasted with his own Memory Charm! Lockhart peered up at them from where he was sitting. "Hello, there. Odd little place, this is. Do you live here?"

Blaise thought he saw a tiny smirk on the Weasley girl's face at these words, followed by her brother's exasperated negative reply. Potter, meanwhile, was looking up the dark pipe. "Have you given any thought on how we are supposed to get back up there?"

Blaise and Weasley both shook their heads, although in hindsight, it probably was something they should have thought about. Fawkes the Phoenix swooped over Weasley's head, hovering in front of Potter, almost as though he were looking into Potter's eyes and dangling his tail-feathers in front of the boy. Weasley blinked. "He looks like he wants you to grab hold. But you're way too heavy for a bird to lift –"

A relieved smile slid over Potter's face. "Fawkes isn't an ordinary bird." He looked around at the small party. "We're going to have to hang onto each other. Ginny, take Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart – "

Lockhart was still staring off into space. Weasley poked him sharply. "He means you."

Potter continued, "You take Ginny's other hand. Zabini, grab Lockhart."

Blaise wore a faintly martyred expression as he disdainfully grasped Lockhart's upper arm. The Weasley girl bridged the gap between Lockhart and her brother, who held onto Potter's robes, who held tight to the phoenix's tail feathers. Slowly, they rose up, and then the air was whipping past their heads as they soared up the pipe and tumbled to the floor in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The ghost looked surprised to see them. "You're alive."

Potter wiped a bit of slime off his glasses. "There's no need to sound so disappointed."

Looking around the bathroom, Blaise caught sight of himself in a mirror. He looked even filthier than Potter, which was saying a lot. Giving his robes up for lost; Blaise pulled them over his head and tossed them down the pipe, then walked over to the sink and stuck his head under the running water. It wasn't much better, but at least he no longer looked like something that had just crawled out of the sewer.

* * *

They left the bathroom and followed Fawkes to Professor McGonagall's office. Blaise winced; did it _have_to be McGonagall? Maybe he should have followed Potter and just let the Basilisk kill him. It probably would have been less painful than what he was likely to face now. Potter and Weasley didn't look overly keen to face the music, either, but knocked and pulled the door open.

There was dead silence for several moments, suddenly broken by a piercing scream of "Ginny!"

Narrowly avoiding being flattened by Weasleys was obviously becoming a habit, as Blaise darted out of the way of a woman who could only be the Weasley Matriarch as she ran to embrace her daughter, closely followed by her husband. Moving a safe distance away, Blaise looked around the room and mentally swore. Not only was McGonagall standing next to the fireplace, clutching her chest and gasping, but Professor Dumbledore was there also, complete with infuriating twinkle.

Blaise had no time to worry about this, however, and could only let out an undignified 'glurk' sound as Mrs. Weasley managed to include him in her frantic embrace. "You saved her. You saved her! How did you do it?"

Managing to wriggle out of the woman's grasp, Blaise tried to get his breath back as Professor McGonagall weakly added her two knuts. "I think we'd all like to know that."

Weasley and Potter also managed to escape Mrs. Weasley, and Potter walked over to the Headmaster's desk, setting down the remains of a diary, the Sorting Hat (how did that get into the Chamber?) and the sword, then starting the basic version of what had happened.

He spent a quarter of an hour explaining how he had heard the voice in the walls, how Granger had figured out it was a Basilisk, how he, Weasley and Desdemona had followed spiders into the forbidden forest and an Acromantula had confirmed where the last victim had died and how they had located the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets with Moaning Myrtle's help.

Thankfully, Potter didn't go into detail about Blaise's participation, only stating that he had helped them. Truce aside, Blaise didn't want people thinking that he would be making a habit of helping Gryffindors, and there was no certainty that ex-Gryffindors wouldn't take '_help in a life-threatening situation'_ to mean that the Slytherin in question had '_Joined the Light Side_'. Idiots.

Professor McGonagall prompted him on when Potter finally stopped for breath. "Very well, so you found out where the Chamber of Secrets was – breaking about a hundred school rules into pieces along the way – but how on _earth_ did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

Blaise was interested in that too, and listened closely as Potter described the timely arrival of Dumbledore's phoenix, and how he had pulled the sword out of the Sorting Hat. When he reached explaining about the diary, however, he paused, obviously concerned about the effect it would have on the Weasley girl.

Luckily for both Gryffindors, Dumbledore somehow knew something about what had happened, and chose to intervene. "What baffles me, is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Miss Weasley, when my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albainia."

_WHAT?_ Merlin, Morgana and the Ancients! How in the nine bloody Hells did this happen? Ginny's parents were equally shocked at this new relevation. "W-what? You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny isn't – she hasn't been – has she?"

This explained the diary, which had apparently belonged to, and been enchanted by, the Dark Lord. When the Baby Weasley had found the diary and written in it, the Dark Lord had used it to possess her and use her to unleash the Basilisk. According to her parents, Ginny should have known better, although Blaise didn't see how. Dumbledore interrupted again at this point, suggesting that Ginny would benefit from a mug of hot chocolate and some bed rest in the Hospital Wing, where the Petrified Victems were currently waking up.

Roisin was awake! Or, would be awake soon. Blaise didn't see the point of sticking around to be punished for breaking rules, and slipped out of the office with the Weasleys, making straight for the Slytherin Common Room to spread the good news and form a rescue party. After over a month in the Hospital Wing, Roisin was less than likely to want to stay for another week, which was Madam Pomfrey's idea of 'Bed (Ar)rest'.

* * *

It took several minutes to get down to the Slytherin Common Room, even with shortcuts and secret passageways, then another fourteen to organize the rescue party. A Prefect took the long way round to inform Professor Snape of Roisin's relocation, and Mary and Seamus created a distraction, bouncing around the Hospital Wing as the Second Years snuck Roisin out.

Roisin's body had relaxed, and she was just fully waking as they made it back to the Common room. The Second Years had just made it to the Girls Dorms when Roisin blinked several times and sat up. "Why am I wearing a hospital gown? Can someone please get me a change of clothes?"

Madam Pomfrey had mentioned that it might take a while for memory to kick back in. Anxious faces relaxed at the fact that she was awake and coherent, and the Second Year girls surrounded Roisin in a hug. The boys held back, as hugging was a girly thing, but still looked intensely relieved at her recovery, and the Dorm Room erupted in a loud cheer that very nearly shook the walls, thankfully muffled by a silencing charm. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal Mary and Seamus, who had just managed to escape Madam Pomfrey's lecturing about disrupting her work. Hopefully, the nurse would be too busy seeing to her other patients and kicking _their_ friends out to notice Roisin's absence for another few minutes. Seeing Roisin awake, they shot across the room and into her arms, refusing to let go.

Roisin remembered what had happened up to being petrified, but insisted on hearing what had happened between then and her revival. In bits and pieces, the Second Years explained what had happened while she had been petrified, occasionally interrupting each other for corrections or details.

Roisin looked slightly surprised at the mention of the Slytherin-Gryffindor Truce and openly stunned upon hearing that Desdemona had gone into the Forbidden Forest and faced a colony of Acromantulas. She turned very white and swayed slightly when she heard that Blaise had accompanied Harry and Ron into the Chamber of Secrets, but managed not to faint (unlike Pansy, who gracefully swooned over a startled Draco), smiling and kissing him on the cheek.

Blaise turned red and mumbled something about not doing less for anyone else.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, the House Cup was a draw, for the second year in a row. Gryffindor had been leading by twenty points before then, but wound up tied.

Dumbledore had given Harry and Ron two hundred points each, which normally would have secured them the cup, had Fate not intervened.

Well, not Fate so much as the other Professors, but close enough. Word seemed to travel as fast in the Staff Room as it did in the rest of the school, and the other Professors remembered that _three_ students had gone into the Chamber, and reacted accordingly. Professor McGonagall had subtracted fifty points from each student for recklessly endangering their lives. Professor Sprout had awarded each of them thirty points for putting aside the notorious rivalry and working together for a Common Goal. Professor Flitwick awarded thirty points to Slytherin for use of a shielding charm.

The Slytherins suspected it was more for getting rid of Lockhart, but the tiny professor needed a good excuse, and they weren't complaining.

Professor Snape had removed a further fifty points each from Gryffindor for 'not having the sense to go to a _proper_ professor who could be counted upon to actually know what they were doing' and awarded the two hundred points that Dumbledore had 'forgotten' to give. He then went on to give the other Second Years ten points each for 'uniting and overcoming barriers to help a fellow student' and Roisin fifteen points for 'escaping the harpy in the Hospital Wing' and a quick recovery.

Madam Pomfrey later subtracted five points from Slytherin when she tracked Roisin down and forcibly escorted her back to the Hospital Wing the day after the Petrified students had been woken and Roisin had escaped, but that was beside the point.

* * *

Exams had been canceled, with the exception of those taking OWLs and NEWTs, who just wanted the 'Hellish Ordeal' over and done with.

The other students were overjoyed, with one or two exceptions. While most of the school had been cheering at the announcement, Gryffindor Table had earned more than a few strange looks due to Hermione Granger's loud wail of "Oh, _no_!"

There was an even louder cheer, the students actually joined by several teachers, at the announcement that due to Memory Loss, Lockhart would not be returning the next year. The Slytherins gloated even more when Blaise submitted a Pensive Memory of Lockhart's confession and attempted Obliviation and sent it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Lockhart may be stuck in the Mental Ward of St. Mungo's, and thus ineligible to stand trial, but this would make things very difficult if he ever recovered.

* * *

The last two weeks of the School Year passed in a haze of glorious sunshine. Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons were cancelled, although this made little difference, as Lockhart hadn't taught them much anyway. The Second Years received confirmation of their electives for Third Year, and the homework and preliminary reading for over the Summer.

Roisin was less than thrilled when she was called to Professor McGonagall's office and informed of all the extra-credit assignments she would have to complete if she wanted to pass Second Year. The catch up work very nearly decimated her free time, and promised a lot of extra work over the holidays.

All too soon, trunks were packed and they were back on the train to London. Most of the time was spent playing games or reading, but Blaise seemed unusually pensive. Finally, Roisin put down her charms book and the introduction of her extra-credit essay and Looked at him. "OK Blaise, you haven't said a word since we left the station. What has you so thoughtful?"

Blaise shrugged. "Just an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a while. Pets, especially magical ones, are usually named for some characteristic or theme. How did Dumbledore's Phoenix end up with a name like Fawkes?"

Roisin blinked. "I wondered about that too, for a bit. But it's obvious if you think about it."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh? Care to enlighten the rest of us clueless ones?"

She rolled her eyes. " '_Remember, remember, the 5__th__ of November'._ Phoenixs are born, age, die their own flames and are reborn from the ashes. Guy Fawkes night involves burning an effigy, a recreation, of Guy Fawkes, and is repeated every year. Burned to death and created again the next year, only to burn once more. A phoenix is the symbol of life after death, and Fawkes was immortalized, annually brought back to life centuries after his death."

There was a long pause, finally broken by Millicent. "Oh. I suppose that makes sense. Still a pretty silly name; the symbol of light called after a infamous terrorist."

Theo shrugged. "No one ever claimed that Dumbledore had valid reasons behind half the things he does."

Millicent agreed. "That's true enough. Besides, wasn't there a historian who claimed that Guy Fawkes was the only man to enter Parliment with honest intentions? That must have appealed to him."

Pansy huffed and looked out the window. "OK, boys out of the compartment. We're nearly at Kings Cross, so we'd better get changed."

Changed, baggage retrieved and a final check of the compartment, the Slytherins farewelled each other and struggled through the crowd to find their families. Locating Harry, Roisin made her way through the barrier to find her parents. "So, we both had near-death experiences and survived. How much do you want to bet that Mother and Father will be furious about you not dying?"

Harry grinned at her. "Never bet when you know you're going to lose. Besides, I nearly died more than you did."

Roisin laughed all the way to the car.

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_A/N: End of Year Two! (Does happy dance.)  
I don't know if Fawkes the phoenix is named after Guy Fawkes, but it seemed like an interesting idea, and I needed something to fill in the train ride. If this accidentally contradicts Canon, tell me and I'll change it.  
Incidentally, anyone want to explain why I have over a hundred hits for Chapter Twenty Two and only two reviews? Feedback is very appreciated, and while I'm not going to threaten all of you by with-holding updates, I really would like to know what people think. Use it as an opportunity to point out any mistakes._

_Thanks, Nathalia_


	25. Summer, and An Unexpected Visit

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the associated works. Deal with it.  
Summary: See previous chapters  
A/N: I AM A PUBISHED WRITER! One of my original poems is published on the front page of a book titled 'Forever Spoken'! Available on Amazon . com online shopping! Can you tell I'm excited?  
If anyone is interested in the actual poem, tell me in a review, leave an address and I'll send it to you._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Roisin sighed and looked over her remaining homework. Due to the events of last term and her subsequent Petrification by a basilisk, Roisin now had a mountain of catch-up work to complete if she didn't want to repeat her second year. Roisin didn't want to repeat the year, and therefore resigned herself to the extra workload.

She had completed Charms, Potions, Astronomy and Herbology, but the remaining History of Magic, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, was going to take a while. When you factored in pre-reading for her electives Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, it more or less ensured that most of her summer would be spent in schoolwork.

Sighing again, Roisin got started on her History of Magic Summer Essay. For once, it wasn't to do with Goblin Rebellions, but on the Witch Burnings.

It may have actually been easier to do Goblin Rebellions, as her _History of Magic_ textbook had very little on the subject of Witch Burnings, despite its significance in Historical events. Oh, well. Roisin would just have to take what notes she could out of the textbook, then cross-reference and look up further information when she visited the O'Conner Keep in a few days.

Thinking of her ancestral home, Roisin smiled. O'Conner Keep was the home of the powerful O'Conner Clan, and the place where she spent most of her holidays away from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A magnificent castle in Ireland, nearly as old as the green hills upon which it was built, the Keep and surrounding lands was definitely Roisin's favorite place to be.

The chime of the Hall Clock brought Roisin out of her wistful fantasy. Midnight. She had another hour to do her schoolwork before her twin or parents tried to check on her to ensure that she wasn't up to any of her 'freakishness'. Oh, well, back to the grindstone.

'**The Witch Burnings,** by Roisin O'Conner

_The h__eight of Witch Burnings and Trials occurred in Europe during the 11__th__ to 17__th__ centuries AD. The more publicized Witch Trials include the Spanish Inquisition, who needed a reason to keep their power after 'purging' the Templar Knights, and the Salem Witch Trials, a brief period of hysteria almost thirty years after European Witch Hunts had started to wane._

_Muggles had many ways of 'testing' accused men and women, none of which were particularly effective. Admission by torture was unreliable, although accepted as truth, as the suspect would say anything the Inquisitors wanted them to, no matter how impossible._

_Other methods were ineffective, but resulted in the deaths of countless innocent Muggles, because true witches and wizards could use simple charms to escape._

_In 'Trial by Fire' the victim was bound to a stake and burned alive. If they burned, they were innocent; if they survived, they were found guilty and executed. In such cases, a witch or wizard would cast a simple flame-freezing charm and fake their agony and subsequent death, while enjoying a gentle tickling sensation. Indeed, several of the Magical Community viewed this as a perverse form of entertainment, deliberately allowing themselves to be 'caught' and burned._

_Another method was 'Trial by Water', or 'Swimming'. The accused was bound and weighed down, before being thrown into a large body of water. If the accused floated, they were guilty. If the accused drowned, they were innocent. Witches and Wizards escaped death by using a Bubble-Head charm, then transfiguring an underwater object to look like a human, before freeing and Disillusioning themselves and swimming away. While equally ineffective, this was not as widely enjoyed as a Burning.'_

Covering another yawn, Roisin heard the fluttering of several wings outside, opening the curtain slightly and spotting a number of owls bearing letters and parcels flying to the the converted study several windows down. That window belonged to Roisin's cousin, Harry Potter, who had turned thirteen an hour ago, if the blinking 1:00 on Roisin's clock was correct.

Yet another owl branched off from the flock, headed toward Roisin's window. Noticing the heavy parchment, green ink and the design of the red wax seal, Roisin correctly assumed that it was the annual Hogwarts Letter. Opening the letter, she skimmed the contents. _Dear Miss O'Conner, you are welcomed back for another year at Hogwarts…Train leaves September 1__st__… Enclosed list of books… Ooh! Hogsmeade permission form!_

Hogsmeade was the all-wizarding village near Hogwarts, which students from Third Year and older were allowed to visit on alternate weekends. Having heard stories from the older years, Roisin was very glad that her Grandmother was considered her legal guardian in the Wizarding world. She didn't even want to think about the fuss Vernon and Petunia would put up as a prequel to bluntly refusing permission.

Idly, Roisin wondered how Harry was going to get permission to visit the village. If the Dursleys resented the fact that their daughter was a witch, they flat-out hated Harry for it. Harry was incredibly quick-witted and resourceful, but Roisin still wondered how he could convince her parents to sign the form, when they would probably refuse out of sheer spite.

Deciding to worry about it in the morning, Roisin went back to her essay, wanting to finish at least the first draft before going to bed. There was no point trying to finish an assignment when you were too tired to see straight.

* * *

Roisin slept in the next morning, and it was nine O'clock before she ventured down the stairs. Thankfully, her parents didn't expect her to do household chores since before her First Year, when they had briefly tried to lower her to 'Harry Status', which translated to somewhere between a House Elf and an indentured servant.

The idea had been dropped rather quickly upon the realization that Roisin wasn't nearly as nice as Harry, and was rather good with a cauldron. Another part was their attempt to blame Roisin being a witch on Harry, though Roisin didn't quite grasp that logic, and just act very stand-off-ish toward Roisin herself. Roisin felt slightly ashamed of herself for going along with that attitude instead of standing up for Harry, but habits of a lifetime are difficult to break.

Entering the kitchen saw the house's other four residents eating breakfast and focusing on the newsreader, who was reporting a dangerous criminal by the name of Sirius Black. Listening to the report with half an ear, Roisin frowned. Sirius didn't sound like a Muggle name, and there was an ancient, if traditionally dark, pureblood family by the name of Black.

She would ask her grandmother or friends when she had the chance, at least one of them would know something about it. In fact, Roisin was sure Draco had mentioned something about a Sirius Black last year, when comparing bloodlines with the son of the new Ambassador to England from somewhere. Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had been born a Black, so Draco would almost certainly know the gritty details.

The other boys in their year had been viewing the family tree comparisson as similar to a tennis match. Millicent had been listening for the sole purpose of making sardonic comments to Pansy and Desdemona. Roisin had tried to ignore them while finishing her Transfiguration homework, which, in hindsight, she was now regretting.

Roisin's attention was drawn back to the present when Vernon turned off the TV and drained the last of his coffee. "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia; Marge's train comes in at ten."

Roisin had been skimming her Charms book for the dual purpose of studying and seeing how long it would take for her family to notice and throw a fit. Upon hearing her father's statement, Roisin dropped the book in horror. Dudley was ignored when he saw the title, shrieked, and fell off his chair while Roisin and Harry exchanged horrified glances. Harry was the one to actually vocalize the thought. "Aunt Marge? She's not coming here, is she?"

The 'Marge' in question was Roisin's paternal aunt, and just as intolerant as her parents when it came to anything out of the ordinary. She lived in the country, where she bred bulldogs, and thankfully didn't visit them very often, a fact that Roisin was profoundly grateful for.

Though self-preservation meant that she wasn't about to vocalize it, Roisin agreed with Harry. Aunt Marge was even worse a Muggle than her own parents, and even Fionna, Roisin's paternal grandmother, had been heard to despair over how she had ever given birth to such a disappointment, and wonder where she had gone so wrong.

Of course, Fionna had also commented more than once that the entire Dursley family (with the exception of her late husband, the black sheep of the family, and Roisin, a flourishing witch) was depressingly normal, but everyone unoffically agreed that Vernon and Marge took it to a whole new level.

But if Roisin was her Grandmother's favorite, Dudley was the light of Aunt Marge's life, and was automatically invited to the station with Vernon. Petunia declined for him, however, insisting that 'her Duddy' had to make himself all handsome for his aunt. Thankfully, neither parent noticed Roisin's openly skeptical expression.

As soon as their mother's back was turned, Dudley winced; no doubt anticipating one of Aunt Marge's smothering hugs. Making sure that Petunia had left the room, Roisin leaned toward her twin. "Nah nah na-na nah."

Dudley glared at her. "How do you know she won't head straight for you?"

Roisin gave up the fight against malicious amusement. "Because I'll be standing conveniently out of the way, and because Aunt Marge thinks I'm eccentric, and you're the apple of her beady little eye."

Dudley's glare deepened. "Think you're so great, don't you? Why don't you prove it and suffer through her hugs."

Roisin returned the glare with a condescending look. "A child could see through that ploy. To answer: I am secure in my superiority. Therefore, I find no need to prove it by humiliating myself. Especially for your benefit."

Dudley finally lost the glare, his expression turning desperate. "Come on, Roisin. I'll toss you for it?"

Roisin smirked. "Not likely."

Dudley resorted to threats. "I'll break that stupid stick of yours and burn your schoolwork."

Roisin shot him a withering look. He'd have to find her wand, first. Besides, she had convinced Fionna to transfigure a stick into an exact replica of her wand in her first year, just in case. "You don't know where my wand is, and I'm leaving tomorrow, so I can just re-do my homework at Nana's."

Dudley was obviously grasping at straws now. "I'll tell everyone about you and that…_school_ of yours."

Roisin narrowed her eyes. Like anyone would believe him. "No." Dudley opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "And if you keep bothering me, I have photographic evidence of you and 'blankie', which is far more effective than any allegations of witchcraft."

Dudley glared and stormed off, the kitchen shaking with every stomp. Actually, Roisin didn't have a scrap of evidence to prove anything, but Dudley didn't know that. Sometimes bluffs worked even better than real blackmail, and there was no harm in using such methods, if it achieved the desired result.

* * *

Once Dudley had gone, Roisin ignored all her previous lessons on proper posture, and slumped in her chair. This was going to be an unmitigated disaster, no matter how you looked at it.

Well at least there was one bright side. Last year, Roisin's parents had struck a deal with her grandmother and extended family. For the first half of the summer holidays, Roisin would stay with her parents at Number Four Privet Drive. This was long enough to keep up appearances with the rest of the neighborhood and prevent any uncomfortable questions from outside sources.

Roisin spent the 1st and 2nd of August celebrating Lughnasadh in Ireland, came back for a week, again for the neighborhood's benefit, then went back to the O'Conner Keep until the start of the Hogwarts school year.

Finishing her breakfast, Roisin headed straight back upstairs to her room. Grabbing parchment and quill, she wrote out a quick letter to her Grandmother, warning her of Aunt Marge's visit. With any luck, it would reach O'Conner Keep in time to warn Fionna and whoever else was coming to pick her up. Aunt Marge was hard to deal with when you had adequate forewarning. When you weren't expecting her, it was simply trouble waiting to happen.

* * *

Roisin had finished her letter and sent it off with Hedwig, and had just returned to her Charms book when she heard a car pulling into the driveway, shortly followed by her aunt's loud voice. Listening closely, Roisin smirked, wondering how much Dudley would pay to make sure Aunt Marge's pet names for him ('Dudders' and 'neffy-poo') never became public knowledge.

The smirk left her face when she heard Aunt Marge calling for her 'little flower-bud'. Thanking every deity and lucky spirit individually and by name that none of her friends would hear about this, Roisin sighed and made her way downstairs. Best to greet Aunt Marge and get it over with.

Roisin made it downstairs just in time for Aunt Marge to release her brother from a second hug. For once, Dudley actually looked relieved to see her, even if Roisin did manage to escape her hug a lot faster that he had. Carefully situating herself behind her brother and therefore out of hugging-range, Roisin resisted the urge to kick Aunt Marge's favorite dog, Ripper, and steeled herself for at least an hour stuck in Aunt Marge's company.

* * *

Roisin had never been her Aunt's favorite twin, a fact for which she was greatly relieved. She was also relieved that her Aunt seldom cursed Privet Drive with her presence. Nevertheless, on the rare occasions that Aunt Marge did visit, Roisin always found herself counting the hours until she left again, and relishing any excuse to get away.

Not to say that there wasn't the occasional upside to her Aunt's visits. Roisin had not missed the fact that her Aunt was not the most observant of people, and frequently used her as a test dummy to practice snide or sarcastic remarks and subtle insults. Another high point was birthdays and such, when Fionna was usually visiting at the same time. Such instances were always amusing.

The day after Aunt Marge's arrival was one such instance. Warned by Roisin's letter, Fionna and Roisin's 'Terrible Twin' cousins had portkeyed to a few blocks away and walked to Privet Drive. The expression on her Aunt, brother and parent's faces was a memory to treasure as Mary and Seamus ran toward her, yelling in delight.

Petunia, always worried about what the neighborhood thought of them, instantly looked out the window to see if anyone had taken notice of it. Vernon and Dudley both winced at Roisin's appearance, confirming Roisin's belief that Fionna had been forcefully persuasive in getting the rest of the Dursley family to agree to Roisin's new 'Summer Arrangement.'

Aunt Marge started, obviously having not been informed of Roisin's visit to her Grandmother. "Mother! I didn't know you were visiting, too."

A thin smile touched Fionna's lips. "I'm not. I am simply here to pick up Roisin for the Lughnasadh festival. Roisin, go fetch your bag. Mary, Seamus, behave yourselves and go help her. Don't worry, Marge, you'll see her again before your visit here is over."

Aunt Marge sneered at Fionna's explanation, obviously displeased at something. "You mean you are encouraging my little flower bud in those heathen practices? Really, Mother, it just isn't normal, what will her friends think? Vernon, you can't be thinking of allowing this!"

Fionna frowned at both of her children, who squirmed beneath her stern gaze. "Those 'heathen practices' are your heritage, Marge Dursley, and Roisin's. Besides, it is a chance to get to know her other family, so I will hear no more protests."

Thankfully, Roisin chose this moment to make her re-appearance, bag in hand, saving the room from any further arguments. Taking her Grandmother's hand, she waved goodbye to the room at large. "See you in two days! Come on, Nana; tell me what everyone's been up too."

* * *

Lughnasadh was especially enjoyable that year. Roisin's admittedly much older friend, Sorcha, had decided that she and her hand fasted, Sean Muldoon, made a fairly good couple, and consented to marriage. This meant an extra celebration, the only downside of which was that it had Mary and Seamus bouncing off the walls, which in turn resulted in Roisin trying to avoid them.

Another surprise was that her oldest cousin, eighteen-year-old Aiden, had started formally courting another of Roisin's friends, Aoibhe, and had yet to hear the end of his younger siblings. The end result of this was that Roisin now had an accomplice in hiding, which made things a lot easier.

Lughnasadh passed all too quickly, and after the brief respite among extended, nurturing, family, Roisin was headed back to Privet Drive for four more days of Aunt Marge, and fourteen of her immediate family. Ugh.

* * *

Like all children and teenagers, Roisin loved getting presents. However, even she was forced to admit that Aunt Marge went a little overboard, even with the excuse that she saw Roisin and Dudley so little, that she loved to spoil them when she could. The fact was that while Roisin enjoyed presents, there were only so many things One could receive before running out of ideas for things they really wanted.

In contrast, Dudley had no such restraint, and delighted in the huge, expensive gifts Aunt Marge brought him, both boy and Aunt glaring at Harry, daring him to ask for something, as well.

The Dursleys of Privet Drive were taking Aunt Marge to some of the London attractions, followed by a trip to the theatre to see 'The Lion King Musical'. They chose a restaurant near a mall to have lunch, after which Dudley insisted that he had seen something he 'really really wanted' in one of the shops. Naturally, Aunt Marge insisted that they find this item for her 'neffy-poo' and took the three teens off to look through the shops.

Fifteen minutes later, Roisin was ready to scream with boredom. Taking a chance while Aunt Marge was busy criticizing Harry, Roisin was careful to keep her voice down as she informed Dudley that if they weren't out of here within half an hour, someone was going to be on the receiving end of the nastiest potion she could brew.

She actually meant that Aunt Marge would be on the receiving end of vicious stomach aches, but she didn't get the chance to finish before Dudley paled. Before he could reply, Aunt Marge noticed his pale face and called him up to walk next to her. Smirking at his escape, Dudley complied, 'accidentally' nudging her into a wall as he did so.

Roisin's response to her brother's 'nudge' as he pushed past her was thankfully inaudible, hissed through clenched teeth. For some reason, it also prompted a hastily smothered laugh from Harry.

Rubbing her hip where Dudley had pushed her into the doorframe, Roisin shot her cousin a nasty look. "What is so terribly amusing, if I may ask?"  
Harry made a valiant effort to control his amusement, and then hissed himself, changing notes slightly. "Try something more like that." He paused for a moment. "Unless you really do think Dudley should throw a lemming at a windmill?"

Roisin blinked and started to smile. "Is that what I hissed? What did you just say?"

Harry grinned. "Literally, 'Seek bitter-tasting water and sink like rock'. Essentially, 'go jump in a lake'. Snakes go more for description than names when they talk."

That was an interesting bit of information. "So in Parseltongue, what would my name be? On that thought, what is yours?"

Harry gave an almost musical hiss, followed by a pause and then a lower hiss. "You are 'Night-flower-with-storm-cloud-eyes', I'm 'Speaker-with-eyes-like-fresh-grass'. Given last year's events, I'm a bit surprised you aren't upset about me speaking Parseltongue."

Roisin shrugged. "I'm also a Slytherin, so I can appreciate the humor of a Gryffindor lion speaking Slytherin's trademark. Besides, Parseltongue definitely has its uses. If you didn't speak to snakes you never would have made it into the Chamber to stop the attacks. You should never be ashamed of your gifts, Harry, just because others disapprove."

Her cousin smiled. "Thanks, Roisin. It's nice to know someone won't flinch and go pale whenever I hiss at something."

The conversation was broken up when Aunt Marge stomped over. "Rosie-dear, what are you doing with that scrawny little monster? Go and pick something you want while I see what Duddy is up to. Precious little tyke."

Roisin waited until Aunt Marge was out of hearing range, and then repeated Harry's hissed suggestion from earlier. Harry burst out laughing.

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_A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates, I have been beyond busy with TAFE, birthday plans, being newly published and a multitude of other things. Anyway, review and tell me what you think._

_BTW, does anyone here like X-Men: Evolution? I'm working on a chaptered story in that fandom and would be interested in people's opinions._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	26. Escape from Private Drive

_Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. Sigh_

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Harry's preferred mode of dealing with Aunt Marge was to ignore her and mentally recite a book on broomstick care. Roisin used her long practice with Draco on one of his rants to zone her out.

After the impromptu lesson on Parseltongue insults, Roisin had somehow talked Harry into teaching her the language, and practiced diligently. It was very tone-and-inflection based, with the slightest difference in key changing a word or sentence entirely, almost like learning to speak Japanese.

It was very difficult, but Roisin and Harry somehow managed to survive the next few days without maiming anyone. On the last day of Aunt Marge's visit, however, disaster struck.

* * *

Petunia had cooked a large, fancy dinner and several bottles of wine were opened. They managed to make it most of the way through dinner without much fuss, and only a few snide remarks about Harry's many perceived deficiencies, suffered through a long and boring monologue about Grunnings during the lemon meringue pie, and by after-dinner drinks, Roisin had actually started to hope that nothing would happen.

She was wrong. As often happens when one indulges a bit too much in spirits, Aunt Marge had stopped thinking about her words before she blurted them out, not that she ever really considered that in the first place, and failed to notice the obvious signs of Harry's anger at the way she spoke of his parents, and the growing worry as the rest of the Dursley family could only pray that no-one lost control and blew something up.

Aunt Marge finally stopped insulting Aunt Lily, and moved onto her husband, calling him a 'lazy, good-for-nothing scrounger'. At this, Harry had quite obviously had enough, and somehow lost control of his magic.

Roisin watched in horror as her Aunt Marge slowly inflated. The sight, and everyone else's expressions, were almost fascinating, in a decidedly morbid sort of way.

She snapped out of her shock at the sound of Harry thundering down the stairs, dragging his trunk with him. "I've had enough here, Roisin. Someone from the Ministry will probably be coming along soon to fix her. Will you be all right alone here until then?"

Roisin knew that the question was well-meant, but that didn't stop her from leveling a glare at her cousin. "My family is in a state of hysteria, you're about to bolt out of the door, and Ministry Officials will be breaking down the door wanting to know what happened. I am not about to stick around to take the fall for all this if someone reacts badly. We can send Hedwig to Nana once we're out of here."

Roisin dodged past Harry and made a dash for her room to collect her own trunk. Set to leave for Ireland early in the morning the next day, Roisin's trunk was already packed, and with the Lightening Charm Nessa had placed on it last year, it was the work of a few moments to drag it downstairs to where Harry held her father at wand point.

With a moment of regret that she hadn't tried that, overruled by the belief of never making a threat you couldn't carry out, Roisin kicked open the front door and the two cousins made their escape into the night.

* * *

They made it to Magnolia Crescent, several streets away, before collapsing on a low wall. Roisin located a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill and wrote a brief letter to her grandmother, only to look around and find a distinct lack of owl. Apparently, Harry had let Hedwig out for a night time hunt just before dinner, and she had not returned before the escape from Privet Drive. Deciding not to voice her thoughts at that moment, Roisin sighed and put away the letter. "So, what do we do now?"

Harry shrugged. "The letter last summer said that I would be expelled if I did any more magic outside of school. I'm trying not to think of how long it will be before they find me and snap my wand."

Roisin gave him a flat look. "It's called 'Home-Schooling', Harry, and don't be daft. Any number of tutors world-wide would jump at the chance to tutor you, and since you didn't use a wand, you can always plead the defense of accidental magic, which does happen occasionally, even as an adult."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

Roisin shrugged. "Slytherin Code of Conduct. 'If someone must be blamed, make sure it's not you.' 'For every rule, there is a loophole.' 'Hope for the best, plan for the worst, and always have a good escape route.' And if you ever tell anyone that I told you about the code, I am legally obliged to hunt you down and kill you."

Harry somehow managed to raise the other eyebrow and blink at the same time. "I'll be worried about the last bit later. Slytherin actually has a code of conduct? I mean, those rules make sense, but I can't imagine any of the other houses doing something like that. But I would have thought there would be a few more snide remarks with those rules."

Roisin narrowed her eyes. "Of course there are. 'Slytherins are not responsible for the stupidity of other Houses' and 'When they say fortune favors the brave, they mean that Gryffindors only survive through sheer luck.'"

Harry looked faintly indignant but before he could reply, he frowned, scanning the surrounding area as if searching for something. Through ten years of living with the Dursleys, Harry had developed a very keen sense for danger and knowing if someone was watching him. Given the events of the last hour, Roisin was willing to trust that instinct. A soft '_lumos' _lit the surrounding area, and showed the distinct presence of something large and hulking, with wide, gleaming eyes.

Harry stumbled backwards, tripping over his trunk. Roisin managed to catch him before he fell, but had to duck his flailing wand hand. Of course, she nearly fell over herself when there was a loud _bang_ and a huge purple bus appeared out of nowhere. A young man, who couldn't have been more than a few years out of Hogwarts, jumped off the bus. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand and we'll take you wherever you need to go. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this evening."

Roisin muttered something rude in parseltongue (as with all non-mandatory foreign languages, she had picked up the swearwords first) and picked up her trunk. "We need to go to Diagon Alley in London. How much would that cost?"

Her less than happy tone shot right over the young man's head. "Eleven sickles, but for thirteen you get hot chocolate, and for fifteen you get a hot water-bottle and a toothbrush in the colour of your choice."

Roisin decided she could skip brushing her teeth this once, and with the way the Knight Bus showed up, she didn't think spill able drinks were such a good idea. Digging in her moneybag, Roisin handed over eleven sickles and climbed on board, leaving Stan to pick up the trunks.

There were no seats on the bus, but rather several beds beside curtained windows. Placing her trunk beside one of the front beds, Roisin was sharply reminded of why she hadn't ordered hot chocolate as the bus lurched forward, sending her sprawling onto the bed. Hissing a suggestion about the driver's immediate ancestry and a not-that-subtle hint about whether or not they had been legitimately wed, Roisin locked her feet around the bedposts, pulled the covers over her head and clung to the mattress, trying to fall asleep.

Note to Self: find whoever owns the Knight Bus or its parent company, and insist that the staff take driving lessons!

* * *

By some miracle, Roisin did manage to fall asleep, so she wasn't sure how much time passed before she was gently shaken awake by Harry, telling her that they had arrived. Resolving to never complain about portkeys again, Roisin staggered off the bus, leaning against the wall as Stan Shunpike retrieved their trunks. Trying to re-gain her bearings, Roisin jumped as a voice announced, "There you are, Harry!"

Most of the Slytherins had some very amusing stories about Cornelius Fudge, and Aiden had done an internship at the Irish Ministry, who apparently didn't think much of him. Seeing the Minister face to face, Roisin was forced to agree. Fudge wore a pinstriped cloak and a lime-green bowler hat, and hardly cut an intimidating figure. Biting back a giggle, Roisin went to book a room as Harry and the Minister sorted something out with the Driver and Conductor, returning just in time to see Harry headed to a private parlor.

Roisin followed him in, trying not to fall back asleep where she stood. When Harry finished whatever he was doing, he should at least know where they were staying. Fudge frowned at her as she walked in. "Young lady, this is supposed to be a _private…"_

Harry cut him off. "It's fine, Minister Fudge. This is my cousin, Roisin O'Conner. She's here with me."

Draco had described Fudge as 'sucking up to anyone with money, power and/or Old Family connections'. As the man hastily back-tracked at the mention of her name, Roisin decided that he had probably been right. "I'm fine, Harry. Listen, we're staying in room twelve, and I'm just going up now. Try not to spend all night down here."

Softening the last remark with a smile, Roisin left the parlor and followed Tom up the stairs to a door with a brass number twelve on it. Thanking the innkeeper and opening the door, Roisin saw two single beds, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire, and a very familiar snowy owl perched on the wardrobe. Fishing the letter she had written earlier out of her trunk, Roisin looked around for a way to coax Hedwig down, didn't see any mice or owl treats, and decided on climbing on a chair to attach the letter to the owl's leg.

Hedwig flew off, and Roisin closed the window behind her. It may have been summer, but the nights were still cold.

Changing into her nightclothes, Roisin chose the bed away from the window and climbed in, savoring the fact that this bed didn't fly all over the place for lack of skilled driving.

She managed to stay awake long enough to hear Harry come up, then fell asleep almost instantly.

It was good to be back in the Magical World, even if her grandmother was likely to throw a fit over running away with no plan of action and staying somewhere like the Leaky Cauldron. Oh well.

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_A/N: I am so sorry for the lack of updates and the shortness of this chapter. My only excuses are writers block and a large dose of Real Life getting in the way. Anyway, you know the drill: Review and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is welcomed, flames are laughed at, and if you have any questions I'll try to answer them if you log in or leave an email address._

_**The Slytherin Code of Conduct **can be found at  www . greatest journal users / keitorin / 1391.html. Just remove the spaces._

_Thanks,  
_

_Nat  
_


	27. The Rest of Summer

_Disclaimer: As usual, I'm getting sick of writing the same thing every chapter._

_Summary: See above._

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Chapter Three

Hedwig had returned with a brief note early the next morning, but Harry had already sent her off again with another letter by the time Roisin woke up, which meant that she wouldn't be able to contact any of her friends until the owl came back. Her cousin did have the grace to look sheepish when she pointed this out, but it didn't change the fact that they were now stuck in the Leaky Cauldron until Hedwig returned.

Roisin could be social when she wanted or needed to be, but when push came to shove, she had a very introversive personality. Add to this the constant noise and crowd of people going in and out of the Leaky Cauldron on their way to one of the Alleys or just for lunch/dinner/after-work-pint, and Roisin found herself in the unique position of looking forward to the school year.

Luckily, Roisin's friends had not forgotten her, and Desdemona had sent an owl suggesting a time to meet up in Diagon Alley. Roisin instantly wrote back, agreeing on two days from then, the 10th of August, at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. This was Roisin and Harry's current Haunt for doing their homework, anyway, largely because it was the quietest part of the Alley (excluding the Bookstore) and because Florean himself knew a lot about the Witch Trials and gave Harry and Roisin a free sundae every time they came in. It had started out as every half hour, but since neither cousin wanted to be as fat as Dudley or sick from too much ice-cream, they had convinced him that one a day was plenty.

* * *

That Monday, Roisin was working on her last two essays, both Defense Against the Dark Arts, when she heard Desdemona's cheerful voice enter the parlor, accompanied by the lower tones of Millicent Bulstrode. Harry looked quickly between his cousin and the approaching girls and quickly stood up. "I'll just go to Quality Quidditch Supplies and admire that firebolt again, shall I?"

Harry may have been too much of a Gryffindor for his own good on occasion, but he still had that instinctive sense of self preservation that makes boys flee in the face of girl talk. Roisin smiled at her cousin as she waved her housemates over. "You do that. I'll see you later. Hey, guys."

The other Slytherin girls noticed Roisin and came over. Running was beneath a Slytherin's dignity, but moving swiftly was acceptable. "Hi, Roisin. How was your Summer?"

Desdemona was Roisin's best friend, but she could be rather dense at times. "I underestimated just how much work I needed to catch up on. I've done most of it, but I still need to finish Defense Against the Dark Arts and have you seen Lockhart's idea of an acceptable essay topic? I haven't even started Transfiguration and I need to do my pre-elective reading! If I get any free time this summer, I'll be amazed."

Desdemona and Millicent watched their friend with no small amount of sympathy. Lockhart's last act as a Hogwarts Professor had been to set an extra credit essay for the students who had been petrified by the Basilisk. Suddenly, Desdemona did a double take at the assigned topic, and burst out laughing. Roisin, who had been trying to avoid looking at the assignment, now did so, and joined her friend in very vocal amusement.

Millicent gave them both a puzzled look. While Lockhart himself had been the subject of much laughter and mocking, the work he set was never anything short of a disaster. "What's so funny?"

Roisin managed to control herself long enough to point out the essay topic. "'Defeating a Vampire using one of Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite charms'. And look at the regular essay; 'Describe how to defeat an opponent using non-offensive spells'. What in the nine hells was that blond moron thinking?"

Millicent looked blank. "That still doesn't explain why you are laughing. They might be the stupidest topics ever, but we still have to do them."

Roisin's reply was an almost predatory smirk. "Do you think Lockhart ever used tanning charms? Vain as he was, I'm betting yes, but I doubt that Vampires tan nearly as well as humans."

A matching smile spread over Millicent's face as she grabbed for spare parchment and quill, hastily jotting down ideas for her own essay. "I'll pay you back for the parchment later. My first governess thought that every girl should know at least a few household charms. Chopping or grating charms, perhaps? I'd love to see the shape of my opponent after a well-cast rug-beating charm."

Desdemona's answering grin was nothing short of evil. "What about cosmetic charms? If you cast a hair removal charm, but left out the numbing or limiting parameters aspects…"

Roisin had to try very hard to stop herself from cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West. "Spells are all well and good, but not much use without creative application of them. Besides, there's really no substitute for a good imagination."

Desdemona giggled, regaining her faintly maniacal grin. "I wonder what our new Defense teacher will think of this. I'd love to be the one grading these essays."

Millicent made a derisive sound. "I wouldn't; can you imagine the kind of work the less imaginative students are going to turn in? Anyway, I doubt it will matter what the new Professor thinks. We're Slytherins, remember?"

Roisin sighed, silently acknowledging the point. "Maybe the Professor will be Slytherin Aluminum? Can we change the topic, please? I'm starting to feel depressed again."

Desdemona nodded in agreement. "Point taken. Have you heard from the others this summer?"

Roisin shook her head. "Only a little. Blaise got dragged to Italy again, and Draco, Pansy and Theo don't want to risk their parents catching them sending owls to a Muggle neighborhood. I heard once or twice from Greg and Vincent, but you know how those two are with letter writing."

The other two girls nodded in commiseration. Their remaining two year mates, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, were the strong and silent type, with emphasis on 'silent'. Oh, they were loyal friends, certainly, but their intelligence left a fair bit to be desired.

Never able to remain silent for long, Desdemona brightened slightly at the idea of potentially unknown news. "Oh, Rosie, have you heard about the Azkaban breakout? Sirius Black managed to escape, and it has all of magical Britain in an uproar!"

Roisin and Millicent gave her a joint Look. "I thought we were trying to avoid unpleasant topics, Desdemona. How is anything related to Azkaban a good thing?"

"Don't call me Rosie. To answer your question; yes, the escape was on the Muggle news as well. I've been meaning to ask, is Sirius Black related to the Ancient and Noble House of Black that Draco's mother is from?"

A familiar sardonic voice spoke up from behind them. "Sadly, yes. He and Mother were cousins. 'White sheep of the Black family', she calls him."

Roisin finished signing her name at the bottom of the parchment and looked up to see her housemate, along with Theo, Crabbe and Goyle. "Hello, all of you. How were your holidays?"

Theo pulled up a chair and joined them. "Fine so far. How have yours been, stuck with the Muggles?"

Roisin cringed slightly. "Don't ask."

Roisin should have known that the statement could not have been anything less than counter-productive. As it was, Draco immediately sat down on the remaining chair. "That bad? Come on, tell us what happened."

Roisin shot him a withering scowl, but sighed and gave in. "First of all, do you have any idea how much extra-credit work I have to do if I don't want to repeat last year? That's a second essay for Lockhart, and we all know his essay subject choices, and extra work from Professor McGonagall, and Charms, Herbology, Potions and all the rest."

Theo winced. "Ouch. As if being Petrified in the first place wasn't bad enough."

Roisin nodded emphically. "Then, just to make things worse, my Aunt had to come for a visit. I managed to escape for Lughnasadh, and I still wanted to disembowel someone with a spoon before it was over. The only good thing about the whole mess was when Harry accidentally inflated her for insulting Aunt Lily and her husband."

As Roisin had mentally predicted, this gem of information prompted delighted reactions from everyone. Possibly the most unexpected and bizarre came from Draco. "Potter blew up his aunt? Good for him!"

Such a statement from Draco Malfoy resulted in a stunned silence from the rest of the group. Glaring at his shocked companions, the blond boy defended himself. "What? Just because I don't like Potter doesn't mean I can't approve of this action."

Roisin knew that Draco and her cousin would never be friends, but perhaps this could be a step in the direction of occasional civility toward each other? Well, no one had said that she couldn't be occasionally optimistic. Looking around at the rest of the table, Roisin smiled; it was good to be back among friends.

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_A/N: Yes, I know it's been way too long since I updated. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. Part of the reason was the total absence of reviews, as I tend to take inspiration and ideas for improvement from constructive criticism._

_I heard a wonderful quote from a fellow fanfic author that seems to fit here: When you are paying my salary, you have the right to impose deadlines. Until then, hush._

_Thanks  
_

_Nat  
_


	28. Meet The Dementors

_Disclaimer: As usual._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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**Chapter Four**

The remainder of the holidays passed more or less quietly, and soon it was time to leave for Hogwarts. Michael, Nessa and Fionna had shown up, along with Mary and Seamus, planning to do their School Shopping (thankfully only a few books) the day before leaving, and then spend the night in the Leaky Cauldron before taking Roisin and her twin cousins to Kings Cross in the morning.

On the other hand, this landed their arrival only an hour or so after the Weasley family, thus making an already chaotic situation (where the Weasley Twins were, chaos always followed) even more so. Roisin took the path of least resistance and hid with Fionna in the room that she and Harry had been sharing.

* * *

Kings Cross station was not that far away from the Leaky Cauldron, so, rather than brave the London traffic, the O'Conners opted to walk to the station. With September 1st being the starting date of many other boarding schools, and many students preferring to use the train to get to wherever their school was located, a group of six carrying suitcases was not an unusual sight.

Walking through the barrier to platform 9 ¾, un-noticed in the rush of people, Roisin moved away from the entrance just in time to be seen reeling backwards from a collision with Desdemona. A harried looking Theo came running up behind her. "Hi Roisin. Sorry about Desdemona; she conned Goyle into getting her a cup of coffee before she met up with the rest of us.

Roisin winced as she reached out to catch and slow down Seamus, who had taken the barrier at a run, as he hurtled past them. "Remind me to hex him later. Des, will you please calm down before I have to tie you down? Thanks."

Perhaps it was the fact that Roisin had yet to make an idle threat that penetrated Desdemona's caffeine induced frenzy, or perhaps she just realized how much she was annoying everyone else. Either way, she slowed down considerably, long enough for the rest of the Slytherin Third Years to catch up. Greetings were exchanged, Greg was the recipient of several glares and Roisin dawdled on the platform long enough to make sure that Harry actually came through this year. A glance at the clock revealed fifteen minutes before the train would leave, so Roisin gave her grandmother one last hug, waved to Michael and Nessa, and led the way to find an empty compartment.

* * *

Finding an empty compartment was surprisingly easy this year. There was always at least one confrontation before the train left the station, and since fights attracted crowds like bees to honey, all the Third Years had to do was wait for a few students to run out of their compartment.

After that, it was a simple matter of checking to see if someone had been sensible to stay behind to mind the compartment. If the compartment was empty, they removed the previous occupant's luggage into the corridor and took over the compartment for themselves. The Third-Years didn't feel too bad about it, since this was a tactic employed by any student who wasn't an Incoming Ickle Firstie. The sole exceptions were the Ickle Firsties themselves, and the Prefects, who had their own Compartment.

The story and speculation of Sirius Black, which seemed to be all everyone else was talking about, was already an old topic, so discussion quickly turned to Hogwarts related things, such as who would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, and what they were planning to do on the first Hogsmeade weekend.

Greg and Vince couldn't wait to get to Honeydukes, to no-ones surprise, and Theo, Draco and Millicent insisted on going to see the Shrieking Shack, which Pansy instantly vetoed as an inappropriate destination for a proper young witch. Desdemona retaliated by asking if Pansy was scared of the ghosts, and Roisin quickly intervened before Pansy could reach for her wand. "If we want to look for ghosts, there are already at least twenty in Hogwarts itself. As for violent spirits, Peeves is more than enough for me, thanks ever so."

Pansy and Desdemona cast haughty and disdainful glares at each other, but dropped the issue, dragging Theo, Millicent and Draco into a lively debate on the Three Broomsticks Vs. Madam Puddifoot's. Seeing Millicent narrow her eyes at Blaise, who had thus far managed to avoid the discussion, Roisin quickly asked him how summer in Italy had been.

Blaise instantly he started a detailed story of who had said what to offend whom, and what had been done in retaliation. Giggling at the description of a curse Mrs. Zabini had used when a distant cousin had made a crass remark about the notorious beauty having siren blood in her veins, Roisin tried to ignore the warm glow that had spread through her when Blaise flashed her a warm smile.

Around one in the afternoon, the food trolley came around, piled with pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes and sweets of many different kinds. The other Third Years pounced on the food, but Roisin sat back with a sigh, digging in her purse for the lunch that Fionna had insisted she bring, rather than buy off the trolley.

At the end of last year, Seamus had made the mistake of telling his parents about all of the delicious, but not entirely healthy, selection of food served on the Hogwarts Express. Michael and Nessa had been properly horrified, so this trip, the three of them had been stuck with Shepard's Pie in an ever-warm bag and several pieces of fruit. The twins had complied with the intention of leaving the parcels behind, but their parents had expected that, and given several extra reminders so that none of the cousins could 'accidentally forget' about the packed lunches and leave them behind.

Luckily for Roisin, Millicent had a weakness for oranges, and offered to swap her a cauldron cake in exchange.

An hour or so later, Draco dragged Crabbe and Goyle off for his obligatory 'annoy and taunt Harry Potter' trip, while the girls took the opportunity to kick Blaise and Theo out while they changed into their robes.

It took less time than usual for the trio to come back, sulking, with Draco muttering under his breath about 'Pothead hiding behind the new teacher' and 'Weasels being far too easy to taunt'. Roisin simply rolled her eyes and was about to tell Draco to sit down and shut up when the train started to slow and an intense cold, worse than the usual chill that accompanied heavy storms, swept over them.

Shivering, Roisin huddled closer to Desdemona, hoping to warm up slightly. To everyone's dismay, it only got colder as the door slid open to reveal a towering, cloaked figure. It drew a deep, rattling breath as it looked around the compartment, and Roisin felt as though she were being surrounded by a thick, all-encompassing fog, weighing down her limbs and sucking the joy out of her. Her eyes rolled back and she found herself drowning in memories…

_She was five. Dudley had pushed her, and she had fallen hard, but Mummy and Daddy insisted that he had only gotten a little carried away with his own strength. Roisin had stormed away into her secret corner of the garden and burst into tears. Dudley was her twin! Twins were supposed to love each other, not hit just because she had danced in front of the telly when Dudley's favorite show was on!_

_She was six. Another funny thing had happened at school that day, and now she was eavesdropping outside the kitchen as her parents argued about Roisin being a 'freak'. But there was nothing wrong with her! Perhaps she had a bigger imagination than the rest of the family, but her teachers were always saying that that was a good thing! Was it really so bad that her parents would stop loving her because of it? _

_She was eleven. Her Hogwarts letter had arrived, __promising everything she had ever dreamed of, but with the immense downside of being completely ostracized by her family. If Nana Fionna hadn't been part of the Magical world too, she would have been tempted to write Hogwarts and withdraw his acceptance. Was isolation from everyone who had once loved her to be the price of her dreams?_

After what seemed like a lifetime, the cloaked figure left and the cold slowly started to fade away. Looking around at the other Third Years, who were looking as shaken as she was, Roisin tried to stop her voice from trembling. "What – what was that thing?"

Blaise also made a visible effort to pull himself together, wrapping an arm around her as Draco answered. "A Dementor. They guard Azkaban prison, and make you re-live all of your worst memories. My father had to visit Azkaban once or twice; I think he was accompanying the Minister, and he came back pale and shaking."

Millicent nodded in agreement, rummaging through her bag and coming up with a large block of chocolate, which she broke into pieces and started handing out. "Chocolate helps to relieve the effects, but no-one goes near one of those monsters, if they can help it."

Pansy curled up against Draco, who for once didn't seem to mind the contact. "I'm just glad it isn't much further to Hogwarts. I'd cheerfully kill for a fire, a hot bath, and no chance of running into any more Dementors."

* * *

Sadly, Pansy's wish was not to be granted that night. The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, and there was a mad rush to get off the train and into the carriages. For a few minutes, it seemed like the Dementor incident would soon be little more than a particularly bad memory, but that illusion was shattered when the carriage pulled up to Hogwarts and they saw two more Dementors flanking the great wrought-iron gates. Shivering again, Roisin clutched Blaise's hand and hurried up the stone steps and into the castle.

Still very shaken by the Dementors, no-one paid very much attention to the Sorting Song, or to the sorting itself, with the occasional exception of polite applause whenever a student was sorted into Slytherin. The lackluster welcome was probably a bit off-putting to the six new first years, but they could apologize for that later.

Everyone sat up and started paying attention, however, when Dumbledore rose to give the Beginning of Term announcements. Roisin personally was just longing to hear why they had Dementors surrounding the school. The candle-light flickered above them as the Headmaster began his speech. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one is very serious, I think it best to get them out of the way before our minds become fuddled with this excellent feast. As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

Those dreadful things were going to be at Hogwarts for an extended period? The Slytherin Third Years were not the only ones exchanging horrified glances as Dumbledore continued. "They are stationed at every entrance to the school grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that no one is to leave Hogwarts without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises, or even invisibility cloaks. It is not in a Dementor's nature to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to our Prefects, and to our new Head Boy and Girl, to ensure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

If the students in question were not smart enough to avoid those creatures of their own violation, Roisin worried for the future. She certainly wasn't planning to go anywhere near them, and she had no doubt that the other Slytherins were feeling the same way.  
Meanwhile, Dumbledore had not finished his speech. "On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks. First if Professor Remus Lupin, who has consented to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year." (Scattered applause) "The second is Professor Rubeus Hagrid, who will be taking over from Professor Kettleburn, now that he has decided to retire in order to enjoy life with his remaining limbs." (Louder applause and not a few giggles.) "Now, let the feast begin!"

* * *

In the Slytherin Common Room not long after the Welcome-To-Slytherin-orientation, several small conversations were being whispered in the remaining half-hour before curfew. Most of them centered on the presence of the Dementors, and suggestions of why they were at Hogwarts.

However, Dementors were high on the list of things that Roisin did not want to talk about, so when she spotted Mary yawning, but clearly reluctant to go to her Dormitory by herself, Roisin excused herself from the conversation and walked over to her cousin. "Come on, Mary. It's been a long day for everyone, and I want to go to bed."

Recognizing this for the excuse that it was, but not particularly caring, Mary nodded and took Roisin's hand. Feeling like a small child again, after a particularly bad nightmare, and knowing that her cousin felt the same, Roisin took the extra time to tuck Mary into bed, and stayed with her until she was asleep.

Standing and quietly exiting the room, Roisin sent up an absent prayer of thanks that her own dorm was only a few meters down the hall and on the opposite side. Quickly changing into her nightgown and brushing her teeth, Roisin re-entered the room to find that Desdemona and Millicent (Pansy was still in the bathroom) had pushed the beds to the side and were carefully arranging their mattresses in the middle of the floor.

Roisin remembered doing this with Dudley once or twice, when something bad or scary had happened, before her twin had become 'too old' for such things. After the day's events, however, Roisin had no objections to sleeping together, and levitated her own mattress to join theirs.

After the Trauma of last year, Roisin's old Cabbage Patch Doll once again followed her everywhere, be it in large purse or School Trunk. Deciding that she wasn't too old to sleep with it after all (besides, Millicent was trying not to let them see that she was holding a stuffed hippogryff, and there was a suspicious lump under Pansy's bedcovers), Roisin tucked Jackie under one arm and wriggled under the thick covers, feeling Desdemona curl up beside her. Glad for the comfort, Roisin closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

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_A/N: Latest chapter is up! Yes, I know it's been forever since I updated this story, but things have been busy. I know the ending might seem a bit rushed, but I probably won't have access to my computer for the next several days (My sister crashed hers and needs one for Uni.) so I decided to post this one now._

_Reviews boost my ego and Constructive Criticism is welcomed. Tell me what you liked, what you hated, and where I need to improve._

_On another note, I don't know when I'll be updating next. My best friend was the victim of domestic violence, so I'm leaving in about two hours to help her take out an AVO. For obvious reasons, I doubt that I'll have much time to write in the near future._

_Thanks,  
Nat._


	29. The First Day and A Disaster

_Disclaimer: As usual._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The first morning into term, the Third Years discovered that there were far worse things to worry about than Dementors.

For one thing, the boys had decided to check on how the girls were faring after the Dementor scare, only to learn the hard way that there would be no more meeting in the Girl's Dormitory for private discussions. Two statues, of the Greek Goddesses Athena and Artemis, now guarded the corridor leading to their rooms, and attacked any boy over thirteen who came near them.

The attacks were not fatal, and started at deliberate misses as a warning, but since the weapons were of solid marble (even if they were blunted) there were definately some bruises, and the longer that the male intruders tried to persist, the more precise the two warrior goddesses became in their attacks.

The first time it happened, the screams had brought half the house running to see who was being murdered. Once Demetra and Tiberius had stopped laughing at the Third Year boys' affronted expressions and calmed down enough to speak normally, they explained what was going on.

Apparently, this was perfectly normal. It seemed that the Four Founders had decided to add some fail-safes to the Student Dormitories, and put up wards on every way to Third Year Dorms and up.

The nature of the wards varied from House to House, as well. Rumor had it that the staircase to the Gryffindor Girl's Dorms was charmed to turn into a slide whenever a boy tried to go up. Hufflepuff currently had the same charm on each Female Dorm, but changed it to something else every few years. No one was entirely sure about Ravenclaw, but hadn't really bothered to find out lately.

Slytherin, however, had been a bit more paranoid. The Gryffindor wards, for example, could probably be overcome by a simple levitation charm. Slytherin, on the other hand, had been sneakier, placing a different means of deterration on each year, with an extra charm to switch at random intervals, never longer than a few months. This meant that while Third Years currently had the two statues, they could easily change to one of the other four protections at any time. The extra charm had been put in place so that the male students couldn't plan a way around the protection and get good enough to actually succeed before the protection was switched.

At the moment, Fourth Years had it best. The charm on their door resulted in a series of hexes and curses, starting with something like a boils hex and steadily working up to things like human transfiguration. Luckily, the culprit usually got the picture before they got turned into a minnow or something equally embarrassing.

Seventh Years had a spell that turned any teenaged male neon-purple and started shrieking an alarm. The Sixth Years had something that covered intruders with a foul-smelling slime that didn't wash off until they were found and dealt with. The Fifth Years had a gargoyle that sang loudly enough that everyone in the Common Room and other Dorms would come running just to shut the bloody thing off. The song was changed every once in a while to the most annoying song the caster could think of. The most recent change (Roisin suspected a cruel and sadistic half-blood) was the theme-song from '_Barney: The purple dinosaur'._

Whatever the Cunning and Ambitious Founder's faults, you couldn't deny his viciously creative streak.

Luckily, the Founder's had a bit more faith in a girl's judgment and ability to defend her virtue than they did in a boy's ability to resist temptation, so meeting in the boy's dorms was still possible.

The Prefects had sent the boys down to wait in the Common Room, while the girls rushed through morning preparations, still attempting to stifle their giggling, and grabbed their bags before heading off to breakfast.

* * *

Draco's consistent taunting of Harry led to dramatic displays of pretending to faint at the breakfast table. Given their own less-than-pleasant experience with Dementors, this did not come off as amusing as Draco might have hoped. A few Slytherins laughed, probably trying to cover up their own reactions to the incident, but most simply glared at Draco for being immature. Roisin, visiting the Gryffindor Table to check on Seamus, regally ignored him and advised all three of her cousins (Mary was sitting with her brother) to do the same.

Returning to the Slytherin Table, Roisin sat down and helped herself to a toasted muffin, reaching for the mulberry jam just as schedules were being passed down the table. A quick glance showed that she had Arithmancy first, followed by Transfiguration, then lunch, and finally Care of Magical Creatures and a free period before dinner.

After a quick breakfast, Draco left for Politics; Pansy to Muggle Studies (Her family had investments in several large Muggle companies, even if they didn't admit it to the rest of the Higher Class Purebloods); Desdemona, Crabbe and Goyle started the long trek to the Divination Tower; and Blaise, Theo and Millicent joined Roisin in searching for the Arithmancy classroom.

* * *

Someone had a subtle sense of humor, as the Arithmancy classroom was located in the seventh room in the fourth corridor on the third floor.

Despite the fact that they had only found this out by asking directions from an amused Grey Lady, who had laughed and said that they should search their Arithmancy texts, then spent ten minutes figuring out what she meant, then doing the necessary calculations, they were still among the first to arrive.

Being an elective, the Arithmancy class was composed of students from all four houses. There was Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas from Gryffindor, Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and Terry Boot, Padma Patil and two others Roisin didn't know from Ravenclaw. Ironically enough, given their reputation as the 'brains' of Hogwarts, the Ravenclaws were the last to arrive.

The class began with a brief explanation of what Arithmancy was and the various things that could be accomplished by it, followed by a mathematical quiz to see what level the students were at, which no-one had been expecting.

Roisin had never been a genius with algebra and area calculations, but she was very good at the more common elements of addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. With Beginner's Arithmancy mostly based on these elements, Roisin looked to be off to a good start. It would have been even easier if they didn't have to show workings, but there you were. _**Question 1.**_ _(24 x 7) + (12 x 13).  
7 x 4 = 28, 7 x 20 = 140. 28 + 140 = 168.  
12 x 10 = 120, 12 x 3 = 36. 120 + 36 = 156.  
168 + 156 = 224.  
_**_Question 1._ _Answer:_**_ 224_

_**Question 2. Shorthand for a**__** x a x a  
Question 2. Answer:** a (cubed) …_

* * *

After an hour of increasingly complex equations, the ten students stumbled out of the classroom, House Rivalry forgotten in the face of overwhelming headaches.

Roisin, Dean and Hermione, all having attended a Muggle School System that placed Maths as a core subject, had not found it too hard, but decided to take the diplomatic approach and let the purebloods have their fun complaining.

Resorting to the 'smile and nod' response as Theo started on an even more detailed complaint, Roisin contented herself with inward laughter as she led the way to Transfiguration.

* * *

Transfiguration started with a lecture on Animagi, but Roisin noticed that several of the students were paying more attention to Harry, mostly giving him sympathetic looks, than they were to Professor McGonagall.

Roisin wasn't the only one to have noticed, as the Professor turned herself into a Tabby cat and frowned as she resumed her normal form with a faint '_pop'_, looking around at the class. "Really, what has gotten into all of you today? Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation hasn't received applause from a class."

The distracted students looked at each other, before Hermione raised her hand. "Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and…"

Roisin frowned, exchanging a confused glance with Blaise. Hermione had been in Arithmancy with them just before Transfiguration, how could she have had been in Divination? Professor McGonagall also frowned, but in disapproval. "Ah, of course. No need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which one of you will be dying this year?"

What? The class as a whole stared at her before Harry finally raised a hand. Professor McGonagall fixed him with a look. "I see. You should know, Potter, that Sybil Trelawney has predicted the death of one student per year since she arrived at this school. None of them have died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. True seers are very rare, and you look in excellent health to me, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

This prompted a round of laughter, even from Harry, although a few of the Divination students still looked a bit wary, and class resumed as normal.

* * *

After Transfiguration, the Slytherins headed down to lunch, the normal 'first-day-back' chatter punctuated by telling Desdemona to shut up about Death Omens, especially as Harry had so far managed to get himself into, and somehow survive, life-threatening situations at least once a year, and the whole castle knew it.

Taking a steaming mini-Shepard's pie from a platter and blowing on a steaming fork-full, Roisin mentioned something that had been bothering her. "Hermione said that they had just come from Divination, but she was in Arithmancy with us for the first period. How does that work?"

Having switched Goyle's steak-and-kidney pie with a nearby Seventh-Year's steak-and-guinness pie, Desdemona eagerly watched the large boy's face, waiting as she absently offered a suggestion. "Time-turner, maybe? Only thing I can think of that would let you be in two places at once."

Biting back a giggle as Goyle pulled a spectacular face at the changed taste and spat the mouthful of pie into a napkin, Pansy shot down the suggestion. "Those things are Ministry-Restricted. There is no way a thirteen-year-old with no connections is going to get her hands on a time-turner, especially for something as simple as taking an extra class!"

Conceding the point, Desdemona went back to looking amused at Goyle, stopped when she noticed the glare he gave her, and struck up a conversation on what they thought Care of Magical Creatures, a class that everyone except Millicent and Blaise were taking, would be like.

Given that Hagrid was known for befriending Acromantulas and three-headed dogs, there was a lot to speculate about.

* * *

Previous Care of Magical Creatures classes had supposedly taken place in the fields on the other side of the school from the Greenhouses. This year's Care of Magical Creatures classes were apparently going to be taken down near Professor Hagrid's hut, near the Forbidden Forest. Roisin had never been to the Forbidden Forest, but if Desdemona and Draco's terrified stories were to be believed, she probably wanted to keep it that way.

Worse still, Roisin easily spotted a certain Gryffindor Trio ahead of them, which promised trouble in an already potentially-chaotic class.

Hagrid was waiting for them outside his cabin, and while Roisin didn't mind the giant man, and valued his loyalty toward Harry, she didn't quite trust Hagrid's definition of what was safe and appropriate for a first lesson. Biting back her apprehension, Roisin quickened her pace as Hagrid called for the class to get a move on. "Got a real treat for you today. Great lesson coming up. Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Perhaps it was just Roisin, but she really preferred when Professors spoke in complete and comprehensible sentences. Trying not to sigh, she exchanged looks with Desdemona as they followed Hagrid around to the paddock behind the hut. Unless they were studying something that could be invisible, like demiguises or thestrals, the paddock was empty.

Roisin exchanged another look, this time with Pansy, as Hagrid called for the class to come closer. "Everyone gather 'round the fence here. That's it, make sure yeh can see. Now, the first thing you'll want to do is open your books –"

The last time Roisin had tried to open the_ Monster Book of Monsters_ she had nearly lost her hand when the vicious book tried to bite it off! Her book was currently trussed up tighter than a fly in a spider-web, and if the other students' expressions were anything to go by, she hadn't been the only one to have had trouble. Draco, however, was the one who actually voiced the question. "How?"

This stopped Hagrid short, obviously not expecting that any of them would have had trouble. "Eh?"

Draco took out his own _Monster Book of Monsters_, which had been bound shut with a length of rope. Looking around the class, Roisin could see every other book in a similar condition; clamped closed with belts, rope, bull clips, or crammed into a tight bag. Draco repeated the question, "How do we open our books?"

Hagrid looked crestfallen. "Hasn' – hasn' anyone been able ter open their books?"

Everyone shook their heads, and Hagrid sighed, as though the solution was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeh've got to _stroke_ them. Look –"

Hagrid grabbed Hermione's book (Roisin was a few seconds slow in offering her own), ripped off the spellotape that held it closed, and ran a huge finger down the spine. To Roisin's surprise and slight annoyance, the book shivered, then fell open and lay quietly in his hand. Draco was equally annoyed, if his tone was any indication. "Oh, how silly we've all been! We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?"

Hagrid was looking rather uncertain as Draco continued to express his annoyance until Harry told him to shut up. Hagrid seemed to have lost his thread now, but pulled himself together. "Right then. So…yeh've got yer books… now yeh'll be needing the Magical Creatures. Yeah. I'll just be getting them then…"

Hagrid disappeared into the forest, and Roisin tried to decide if she should be relieved or disappointed. She had been looking forward to this class, and as much as she respected Hagrid, he didn't seem to have the makings of a teacher. Not for the first time, she decided that Draco needed to learn tact, and that disapproval of certain things did not need to be discussed at the top of One's voice. "God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes? My father will have a fit when I tell him…"

Sadly, Roisin was forced to admit that Mr. Malfoy wouldn't be the only one likely to be upset. Both Roisin's grandmother and her 'Aunt' Nessa had also attended Hogwarts, and was unlikely to take this news well. There had been enough complaining when the _Monster Book of Monsters _had tried to take a bite out of Erin over the holidays. Even if Roisin held off writing to her family, it was a sure bet that either Mary or Seamus had already sent off a letter to tell them of the new Professors. When the twins found out the finer details from Common Room Gossip thanks to the older years...

Meanwhile, yet another confrontation was brewing between Draco and Harry, who had taken offense on Hagrid's behalf. "Shut up, Malfoy!"

Honestly, the two of them needed to work on thinking up original insults and banter. "Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you…"

The class looked to be bad enough on its own, Roisin didn't need infantile bickering on top of it. "Both of you be quiet! We're going to have enough problems with Hagrid's idea of a 'treat'; we don't need you two throwing petty insults on top of it!"

Both Harry and Draco had seen and experienced what Roisin could come up with when annoyed, and fell silent just as Hagrid returned, leading a herd (flock?) of bizarre-looking creatures that had the back half of a horse and the front half of an eagle. They had cruel, steel-colored beaks, brilliant orange eyes and six-inch-long talons. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid brought them closer and tied them to the fence.

"Hippogryffs!" Hagrid announced happily, waving a hand at the creatures. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Once you managed to look past the lethal appearance, Roisin had to agree with the last point. The gleaming coats changed almost seamlessly from feather to hair, in shades ranging from stormy-grey, to bronze, to inky black, and everything in between. It was like the cliffs of Moher; potentially deadly, but still utterly breathtaking.

Roisin snapped out of her daze and went very pale at Hagrid's next words. "So, if yeh all want to come a bit nearer…"

For some reason, no one did. Eventually, the Gryffindor Trio approached, but it was obvious that their actions were more out of loyalty to Hagrid than any particular desire to get close to the Hippogryffs.

Undeterred, Hagrid began the lecture. "Now, the first thing yeh need to know about Hippogryffs is that they're proud. Easily offended, they are. Don't never insult one, because it might be the last thing yeh ever do.

This was not reassuring, but Hagrid continued, seemingly oblivious to his students' dismay. "Yeh always wait for the Hippogryff to make the first move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward them, and yeh bow, and yeh wait. If he bows back, then yeh're allowed ta touch him. If he doesn't bow, then back away sharpish, because those talons hurt. Right, who wants to go first?"

Unsurprisingly, most of the class retreated even further, and even Harry, Ron and Hermione looked reluctant. The Hippogryffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their wings, and did not look at all happy about being tethered up. Hagrid didn't look much happier, giving them all a pleading look, "No one?"

Harry suddenly stepped forward. "I'll do it."

Some day soon, Roisin was going to sit Harry down and give him a Serious Talk about the difference between extreme bravery and sheer foolishness. Either indifferent to or blithely unaware of Roisin's dismayed expression and everyone else's warnings, Harry climbed over the fence as Hagrid un-collared the grey Hippogryff.

Hagrid's voice was soft as Harry approached. "Easy now, Harry. Yeh've got eye contact, now try not to blink… Hippogryffs don't trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

Roisin whimpered softly, mentally drafting a letter to inform her family that Harry had been mauled. Telling someone _not_ to blink was practically a guarantee that they _would_ blink. Harry bowed and Roisin saw Desdemona shield her eyes as the Hippogryff only stared at her cousin. Hagrid's tone turned worried and started urging Harry to back away.

Roisin tried not to look, but eventually glanced up as she heard several sighs of relief. The Hippogryff had bent its scaly front legs into an unmistakable bow. Hagrid now sounded completely ecstatic. "Well done, Harry. Right, yeh can touch him now. Pat his beak, go on."

Anyone with even the faintest skill at reading faces could tell that Harry would have much preferred to back away, but slowly approached the Hippogryff and patted its beak as the rest of the class burst into applause. Harry looked as relieved as the rest of them, but quickly changed to something very akin to panic as Hagrid announced that Buckbeak (the Hippogryff) would probably let Harry ride him now, and promptly hoisted the unfortunate Gryffindor onto the Hippogryff's back.

Hagrid slapped Buckbeak on the rump and the creature instantly launched itself into the air, Harry holding on tight. Deciding that trying to watch was only going to give her a panic attack, Roisin sank onto a nearby rock, opened the _Monster Book of Monsters_, and started to read up on Hippogryffs.

Luckily for all concerned, Harry came back to solid ground in one piece, to loud and relieved cheering. On the downside, now that Harry had proved that it could be done, the rest of the class had no choice but to follow his example and try to approach the Hippogryffs. Roisin was just patting the bronze Hippogryff, Swiftwing, accompanied by a very reluctant Pansy, when a commotion sprung up on the opposite side of the paddock.

The first Hippogryff, Buckbeak, had let out a screech of fury and moved in a flash of steely talons. Seconds later, he was matched by a high-pitched scream from Draco, who was suddenly lying curled on the grass, blood all over his robes. "I'm dying! I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

The class panicked, with the Slytherins rushing over to their injured year mate, Pansy almost as hysterical as Draco. Hagrid had gone very white as he also rushed over, having wrestled Buckbeak back into his collar. "Yer not dying. Someone help me – gotta get him out of here –"

Roisin just beat Hermione in a rush to open the gate as Hagrid sprinted up to the castle, carrying Draco, who everyone could now see had a huge, deep gash on his arm. The rest of the class followed at a walk, with Roisin and Desdemona trying to calm Pansy as the rest of the class started arguing about whether Hagrid or Draco was to blame. Roisin wished they would stop arguing about the blame long enough to think about the potential consequences of the fiasco.  
And there would be consequences.

* * *

It didn't take long for the shaken class to reach the Castle, where Madam Pomfrey kicked the Slytherins out of the Hospital Wing, sending them back to their Common Room. Grumbling darkly, they went down and joined Blaise, and Millicent, who had only chosen two electives and were waiting for the others to finish Care of Magical Creatures.

Quickly explaining the disaster in Care of Magical Creatures, the Third Years gathered their books and homework assignments and quickly headed back up and across the castle to the Hospital Wing, where they lurked outside until Madam Pomfrey let them back in

Draco was sitting on a bed, his arm heavily bandaged and looking extremely sulky. The other Third Years had barely sat down before Draco launched into a rant about the nurse refusing to let him out until Thursday. Three days to be spent in the bland Hospital Wing! Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle listened with rapt attention, while the others sat back and waited for him to finish.

Used to the Malfoy Heir's rants, and of the quiet opinion that in this case he deserved both the injury and the Hospital stay, Roisin opened her Transfiguration book and started her Animagi essay. "It's strange; becoming an Animagus looks complex and difficult, but could be done with enough time and effort. Why would there only be seven Animagi in a century?"

Blaise threw back his head and laughed outright. "There have been seven_ registered_ animagi this century, Rose. The ministry is mad if they think more than one wizard in ten actually registers their form. That's why there's such a heavy fine for being caught if you don't register."

Crabbe backed this up. "He's right. I can name at least five people off the top of my head that are animagi, and not one of them is registered."

Desdemona lit up like a _luminous_ charm and gave Roisin an excited glance. "So, who wants to make that our goal before finishing school?"

For once, she wasn't hit with a quelling glare or a request to shut up, as so many of her ideas were. Quite the opposite, as the rest of the Third Years grinned. Grinning, Draco used his good arm to reach for a fresh sheet of parchment, "I know we have some animagus texts in the library at home. I'll ask Mother to owl me some copies."

Roisin copied Draco's example, as did most of the others. "I found a reference to animagi when I was doing my extra-credit essay for McGonagall over the summer. I'll ask Nana if she knows any books I could use."

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: I know the Animagus plot-point has been done to death, but think about it. There are seven registered Animagi in the 1900's, but we have Moony, Padfoot and Prongs becoming Animagi in their fifth year, not to mention Rita Skeeter. That's at least four unregistered Animagi, and if a group of students can do it before they even reach their OWLs, then I refuse to believe that no-one else has tried it. James and Sirius were described as 'exceptionally bright', but they can't be the only clever ones in all of Hogwarts._

_A/N: One of my few pet peeves is net-speak, and I honestly prefer no reviews to something like 'I luv the wA u write. update l8r', which tells me all of nothing about the actual story, and becomes annoying after the first few repitions. Also, if you have a question for me to answer or want a reply, give me some way of contacting you, be it e-mail or logged in for a review reply or PM. I'll happily answer questions, but I need some way to actually tell you the answer._

_Anyway, despite the long Author's Note, this chapter is finally up and I'll try not to take so long with the next one. If anyone has extra ideas for Slytherin Boggarts, let me know!_

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	30. Boggarts

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Canon Characters contained therein._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

Chapter Thirty

Out of the corner of her eye, Roisin saw Blaise scowling at his Arithmancy homework and bit back a smile. Their homework for the week was to go over the problems they had missed in the initial quiz, show where they had gone wrong, and find the correct answer.

Roisin had not done well on the geometry questions, of which there were thankfully few, but she had still scored one of the highest in the class, as the pure-blood-raised had always opted for Magic over Maths. Having Owled Fionna with a request for a geometry book along with the Animagus ones, Roisin was putting her Arithmancy homework off until it arrived. As their next Arithmancy class was on Friday, she had time to get her other assignments out of the way first.

This left her busy completing her Transfiguration essay in the Common Room while trying to convince Draco that calling Minister Fudge an 'easily influenced imbecile' was probably not an acceptable answer to his politics essay. Really, if you were going to insult highly-placed people, there were much better ways to do it. Not to mention ways that were less likely to get you arrested, no matter how much influence your father had.

Roisin saw Blaise get up from the table he was sharing with Millicent and Theo and head in her direction. As he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her, Roisin fought away the warm flush in her cheeks, which had been making an annoying habit of appearing whenever Blaise was nearby. "Hey, Roisin, could you help me with Arithmancy? I can't get the long equations."

Apparently, there was a lot of geometry and angles involved in Curse-Breaking, and Blaise had done well in that part. It would be a fair trade, so Roisin pulled out her own Arithmancy test. "If you can help me with the geometric ones, sure. What were you having trouble with?"

Blaise pointed out **Question 4:** (_24 x 3) x (36 – 9)_. "I don't understand what the brackets are for. I tried 2 36 – 9, but Professor Vector marked it wrong."

Considering that there was a numerical difference of 778 between the two answers, Roisin would have been shocked if it was marked right. "All right. The brackets separate the individual equations. The first equation is 24 x 3, which is 72, then you have the second equation of 36 – 9, which is 27. Now all you have to do is multiply 72 by 27."

Blaise nodded and began muttering under his breath as he worked out this problem, then winced as he discovered the numerical margin between the two answers. Roisin managed to hide a grin as she pointed out her geometry problem. "Right, so I get angles, but how does ABD equal DAB?"

Blaise had opened his mouth to explain when Crabbe spoke up from the next table over. "Can you take it somewhere else? Just listening to you is hurting my brain!"

This prompted a round of smothered laughter from anyone close enough to hear, (Vince could joke about it, but anything ore complicated than fractions and three-syllable words made his head hurt) and an excited squeal from Pansy, who had just returned from visiting Draco in the Hospital wing. "Ooooh, take what where? Did Blaise finally ask you out? Oh, we have to find something for you to wear…"

Roisin's blush came back full force, and her only consolation was the slight darkening of Blaise's own cheeks as he told Pansy to go away. Seeing the girl rush to where Desdemona sat, likely to tell her the supposed 'news', Roisin barely resisted the urge to bang her head against the table.

* * *

On Thursday, Draco returned to classes, right in the middle of potions. Though his arm was bandaged and in a sling, Roisin thought that the 'Tragic War Hero' attitude was taking things a bit far. With the way Pansy was fussing, however, not everyone agreed.

Luckily, she was on the other side of the room from any spare tables, and contented herself with a small wave before returning to the task of brewing her own potion (harder than it sounded when temporarily partnered with Goyle and only a few cauldrons away from Neville Longbottom) and a small wince as she noticed Draco setting up beside Harry and Ron Weasley. Why, _why_, were Slytherin and Gryffindor always together for classes? It was only asking for trouble.

Checking on the temperature, Roisin passed Goyle the shrivelfig to skin, carefully adding an ounce of powdered bloodwort to the potion, followed by a minced rat spleen, then watched as the potion turned from Olive Green to Forest. Goyle passed her the skinned and chopped shrivelfig, which was added in increasing numbers, with a ratio of one piece for every two stirs.

Trying to ignore the quiet confrontation between Harry, Ron and Draco, Roisin relaxed slightly as the potion turned a bright, acid green. Lowering the flame to a simmer, Roisin started to gather up the used instruments, looking around at the other cauldrons, stopping in shock as she saw Neville's. How in the nine hells did a green potion turn out orange?

Professor Snape seemed to agree as he lifted a ladle of the potion, allowing it to slowly splash back in. "Tell me, Longbottom, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Did I not state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand?"

Roisin winced. She understood Professor Snape's harshness with anyone who messed up; Potions were at once delicate and violate, after all, but Neville looked almost ready to cry.

The situation was not helped when Hermione tried to interject, offering to fix it. She probably meant well, but the female third of the Gryffindor Trio tended to come off as insufferable, condescending, and trying to show up everyone else. As unkind as it sounded, there was a reason that Harry and Ron were her only friends.

Professor Snape did not enjoy Hermione's suggestion either. "I do not recall asking you to show off, Miss Granger. Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad, and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to pay attention in the future."

Roisin felt sorry for Neville and his toad, but held to the probably over-optimistic hope that the result, whether good or bad, would result in fewer explosions and melted cauldrons in the future. Checking on her potion again and lowering the flame slightly, Roisin packed up her potion's kit and gathered her ladle, knives and other equipment to wash in the large stone basin.

Rolling up her sleeves, she caught the sound of a Sirius Black discussion about to turn into Harry/Draco Confrontation #? and tuned them out, barely stopping Desdemona from accidentally grabbing the blade of a knife as she reached for something to scrub, the energetic girl distracted by Crabbe jostling for position at the basin.

Drying her equipment and returning to her station, Roisin had just finished packing everything away and returning her kit to the 'Third-Year Slytherin' storage area when Professor Snape called for them to gather around Neville's cauldron as he tested Neville's Shrinking Solution, which was now at least the appropriate colour.

The Gryffindors looked fearful as Professor Snape picked up the toad and force-fed it a few drops of the Shrinking Solution. Having seen Hermione muttering instructions to Neville in a louder-and-more-obvious-than-she-had-probably-hoped tone, Roisin had little worries about the toad, and was more excited about actually seeing the potion's effects.

There was a small '_pop_', and a tadpole was wiggling in Professor Snape's palm. The Gryffindor's burst into cheers. Roisin winced and scowled at Lavender Brown's high-pitched voice inches away from her ear.

Professor Snape looked sour as he took a vial from his robes, turning the tadpole back into a toad. "Five points from Gryffindor." (the cheers stopped.) "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

* * *

In Roisin's first year, the DADA Professor was a stuttering incompetent working for a Dark Lord. In Roisin's second year, the DADA Professor was a brainless airhead with an over-inflated opinion of himself. Now they had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and everyone was waiting to see what this year's professor would be like.

Professor Lupin was absent as the students entered the classroom (This year's motif being covered with posters of dangerous magical creatures) and sat down, pulling out books, quills and parchment. They had started speculating on what Professor Lupin might do as a first lesson, when the teacher in question walked in, giving them a vague smile. "Good afternoon. Will you please put all your books back into your bags; today will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wands."

Everyone exchanged looks, unsure of whether to be happy or hesitant. They had had a practical lesson only once before, so this was something new and different. On the other hand, their one practical lesson had been the 'Cornish Pixie Horror of '92', and nothing short of a disaster.

The class followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom, down a deserted corridor and around a corner, where they ran straight into Peeves, who was busy stuffing gum into a keyhole. The sight of the poltergeist prompted mixed reactions from the students, but Professor Lupin only smiled pleasantly. "I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Mr. Filch won't be able to get to his brooms."

Given the explanation, Roisin was surprised that no one was egging Peeves on, teacher or no teacher present. Caretaker Argus Filch hated the Hogwarts students with a passion, and the feeling was more than mutual, only exceeded by Filch's ongoing battle with Peeves. The poltergeist himself showed no remorse, only blowing a loud, wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin sighed and took out his wand. A quick spell later, and the gum shot out of the keyhole with the force of a bullet, and straight up Peeves's nose. Roisin smirked happily; thanks to the Bloody Baron, Slytherins were seldom bothered by Peeves, but it was nice to see someone get the poltergeist back on occasion. Dean Thomas, a dark-skinned Gryffindor, was the one to actually vocalize the collective thought. "Cool, sir!"

Professor Lupin smiled. "Thank you, Dean. Shall we proceed?"

The students were looking at Professor Lupin with new respect as they followed him down a second corridor and into the Staff-room. Having preferred to talk with her teachers after class or in their office, Roisin looked around with interest, stopping when she saw Professor Snape, who was sitting in an armchair and sneered as he saw the class come in.

Professor Lupin made to shut the door behind them, but Professor Snape made a halting gesture. "Leave it open, Lupin; I'd rather not witness this." He strode past, robes billowing, and stopped as he reached the door. "Possibly no-one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I advise you not to trust him with anything dangerous, unless Miss Granger is whispering instructions in his ear."

Ah, it seemed that the two hours between Potions and now had not been long enough for Professor Snape to cool off about Neville's orange attempt and Hermione's forbidden assistance. Neville turned pink, but Professor Lupin merely raised his eyebrows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure that he will perform admirably."

The class, Neville included, was very obviously not so sure. Professor Snape echoed his previous sentiment, lip curling as he closed the door with a snap. Undeterred, Professor Lupin continued, beckoning the class to the far wall, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe. As Professor Lupin approached, the Wardrobe gave a violent wobble, banging off the wall.

Several people jumped, but Professor Lupin remained calm. "Nothing to worry about. There's only a boggart in there."

A boggart was a magical creature that turned into whatever its victim feared most, so Roisin thought that it really _was_ something to worry about. Her classmates seemed to agree, as Seamus Finnigan eyed the wardrobe apprehensively, Neville's expression turned to one of pure terror, and Draco turned paler than usual and started muttering under his breath. From what Roisin could hear, he was running through ideas of how to use his injured arm to get out of participating. She didn't blame him.

Either oblivious or ignoring their reactions, Professor Lupin continued his lecture. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks –" (Hm, so that's where the '_Monster-under-the-bed'_ idea came from) "I once came across one that had wedged itself into a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it for me to give my Third Years some practice. So, the first question we must ask is, what is a boggart?"

To no one's surprise, Hermione was the first with her hand in the air. "It is a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

Professor Lupin nodded and Hermione glowed. "Couldn't have put it better myself. So, the boggart sitting in the dark on the other side of the door has not yet assumed a form. It does not know what will frighten us the most, but when I let him out, he will become what each of us most fears."

Neville let out a splutter of terror, but again Professor Lupin ignored it. "This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we even begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Having Hermione bouncing up and down beside you, her hand in the air, had to be very off-putting when you were trying to answer a question, but Harry made a good effort. "Er, because there are so many of us, the boggart won't know what form to take?"

Hermione took her studies way too seriously, looking disappointed as she put down her hand. Professor Lupin nodded. "Precisely. It is always best to have company when dealing with a boggart. It becomes confused. Which should it become – a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I saw a boggart make that very mistake once, turning itself into half a slug. Not even remotely frightening."

There was a wave of giggles as Lupin continued. "The charm to repel a boggart is simple, but requires force of will. You see, what really finishes a boggart off is laughter. What you need to do is force it into a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please – _Riddikulus!"_

Less than thrilled at the idea of facing their worst fears, the students were very enthusiastic as they obediently repeated the charm. Professor Lupin nodded. "Good, very good. But I'm afraid that the word alone is not enough. That's where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, but not nearly as much as Neville, who was trembling from head to toe as he walked forward, as though heading for the gallows. "Right, Neville, first things first. What would you say frightens you the most?"

Neville looked around wildly, as though begging someone to help him, and had to try several times, and when he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed, but there were a few slight frowns. Intimidating or not, a Professor should not be a student's worst fear. Professor Lupin, on the other hand, looked thoughtful. "Professor Snape… hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

Roisin didn't see what that had to do with the conversation, but Neville replied in the affirmative. "Yes… but I don't want the boggart to turn into her, either."

Having been subjected many times to stories of when Desdemona had encountered the formidable Longbottom Matriarch, Roisin felt a measure of sympathetic understanding as Professor Lupin shook his head. "No, you misunderstand me. I wonder, could you tell me what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Roisin had an idea of where this was going, and winced. Neville looked confused as he answered. "Well, always the same hat… a tall one with a vulture on top… and a long dress – green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

Professor Lupin nodded, prompting him on. "And a handbag?"

"A big red one," Neville confirmed, still looking mildly confused.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

Neville nodded, and Professor Lupin looked pleased. "When the boggart bursts out of the wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. You must raise your wand – thus – and cry _Riddikulus_ – and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, and that red handbag."

The Gryffindor half of the class shouted with laughter. The Slytherin, and obviously more sensible, half of the class winced. This would not be good. To his credit, Professor Lupin did not smile. "If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to turn its attention to each of us in turn. I would like each of you to think of what frightens you the most, and come up with a way to force it to be comical."

Roisin thought hard; what _did_ she fear the most?

She feared dying, certainly, but doesn't everyone, to an extent? Although Roisin was a quiet girl, she feared being completely alone, but not enough to classify as her worst fear. She feared disappointing the people she cared about, but she had been repeatedly assured by both Housemates and Clan that while they might not always agree with her, she had yet to disappoint anyone.

That was it! Supportive and mildly 'eccentric' grandmother aside, growing up with the magic-phobic Dursleys had consequences, and left Roisin with a deeply-buried but very real insecurity that she was nothing more than a 'freak' like Harry. Now, how to combat that fear…

Roisin had just smiled, having found a solution, when Professor Lupin called for their attention again. "On the count of three, Neville. One, two, three!"

The wardrobe door sprang open, and Professor Snape stepped out. Neville backed up, mouthing wordlessly, as the potions master stalked relentlessly forward, reaching inside his robes. "_R – Riddikulus!"_ Neville managed to squeak

There was a noise like a whip-crack, and Professor Snape stumbled, now clad in a long, lace-trimmed green dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture. Roisin couldn't decide whether to be impressed or dismayed; Professor Snape was going to be Very Not Happy about this.

The Gryffindors, of course, roared with laughter as Parvati Patil stepped forward and Professor Snape changed into a huge cobra. A shout of '_Riddikulus'_ and flute music filled the air as the snake began to dance. A burst of laughter made the boggart pause, and Desdemona stepped forward. The cobra changed into an enormous Hungarian Horntail, its mouth open in a roar of fury. Desdemona gulped and pointed her wand at it. "_Riddikulus!_"

The dragon turned into a puppy, covered with pink ribbons, and Desdemona looked smug as Seamus Finnigan took his turn. The bedecked puppy changed into a tall, skeletal woman with green-tinged skin and floor length black hair. Roisin winced at the memory of Gilderoy Lockhart as the Banshee let out a keening wail. Seamus nearly took a step back, but steadied himself. "_Riddikulus!_"

The Banshee made a rasping sound, losing her voice, and it was Roisin's turn. She faced the boggart, gripping her wand tightly. It caught sight of her, and promptly turned into Roisin herself, dressed in the kind of overly girlish muggle outfit that her mother had always tried to force her into. Boggart-Roisin reached into the overly-frilly pink skirt and pulled out a plastic wand that she had seen when her parents had taken her and Dudley to Disney Land a few years ago, waving it uselessly as Dudley and his gang laughed at her.

Oh, now this was just _never_ happening! "_Riddikulus!_"

Now Boggart-Roisin was wearing the casual day robes that she always wore at the Keep, surrounded by her friends, face shining with pure exhilaration as the magic flowed through her. Boggart-Roisin lifted her redwood wand and began casting a series of very creative curses.

Watching Dudley turn purple with orange spots and attempt to do a Monty Python Silly-Walk while blowing soap bubbles, the class roared with laughter and the boggart shifted its attention.

More laughter, and Roisin caught sight of Harry grinning broadly as Ron Weasley stepped forward, and the boggart turned into a spider the size of a small lorry. It advanced on Ron, clicking its pincers, and it seemed like the red-head had frozen. Then – _"Riddikulus!_" The spider's legs vanished, and several girls screamed and ran out of the way as it rolled over the floor, coming to a stop at Blaise's feet.

Blaise's Boggart gave everyone pause. Roisin felt very disturbed as she saw herself lying on the floor, her eyes blank and unfocussed as they stared into nothing. Blaise's olive complexion turned almost white as Boggart-Roisin changed into a woman who could only be his mother, then into each of his year-mates in turn, all lying still.

This would be one of the few instances that Roisin appreciated her cousin's impulsive bravery, as Harry took action and shoved Blaise to the side, distracting the Boggart. This, in turn, jerked Professor Lupin out of his stupor, and he leaped forward, the boggart turning into a silvery-white orb, hanging in front of the Professor as he waved his wand almost lazily. "_Riddikulus._"

The boggart landed on the floor in the form of a cockroach, and Professor Lupin stepped aside. "Forward, Neville, and finish him off!"

Neville hurried forward, looking determined, and they had another momentary glimpse of Professor Snape in the lacy dress. Then Neville let out a loud laugh, and the boggart exploded into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

The class broke into applause, and Professor Lupin smiled. "Excellent! Excellent, Neville, and well done, everyone. Five points to everyone who faced the boggart – ten for Neville because he did it twice – and five each to Harry and Hermione, for answering my questions correctly at the beginning of the lesson."

Roisin had the feeling that Gryffindor would need all the points it could get, once Professor Snape heard about this. The Hogwarts grapevine was far too effective, sometimes. She pulled out her homework diary and quickly wrote down that they had to read and summarize the chapter on Boggarts, then joined the rest of the Slytherins gathered around Blaise, elbowing cheerful Gryffindors out of the way as they quickly headed to the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

They managed to support the Italian boy until they were inside the Common Room, at which point he pulled away from them and bolted up to the Third-Year Boys Dorm, locking and barricading the door behind him.

This left the other Third Years standing uncertainly in the middle of the Common Room as they tried to figure out what to do. For once, Roisin decided on the direct route, stalking up the stairs and casting every unlocking charm she knew at the Boys Dorm until the door opened.

Closing it softly behind her, Roisin spotted Blaise lying on his bed and walked over, sitting down beside him. She could find no words, so simply remained silent, trying to project a sense of comfort. Finally, Blaise spoke. "My Dad was a teacher in a wizard pre-elementary school, my Mum's first husband. He was killed when I was four."

Mrs. Zabini was a famous beauty, but little was known about her husbands, except that they died after leaving her a lot of gold. Roisin took Blaise's hand, letting him continue. "A Muggle-Born wizard had lost his family in the Dark Lord's first reign of terror, and went crazy, taking his loss out on others. He attacked Dad's school on my first week there, supposedly thinking that the Pure-Blooded should know how it felt to lose their children."

That was a horrific thought, and Roisin mentally damned the wizard to the deepest pits of hell as she squeezed Blaise's hand, though he still didn't look at her, speaking in a distant, emotionless voice. "My Dad tried to stop him as we waited for the Aurors to arrive, but the wizard just hit him with the killing curse, as though he were swatting a bug. He fell, less than a meter away from me, and I remember trying to wake him up, but I couldn't. I could only stand there as an Auror told me he was dead and shooed me away."

Roisin mentally sent the Auror to join the murdering wizard, but Blaise wasn't finished, holding her hand so tightly that Roisin felt her bones creak. "Mum was never the same after that, and my worst fear has always been the people I care about dying, while I can't do anything except stand there. How do you make something like that funny?"

Death wasn't funny in the least, but Roisin tried to come up with something to make Blaise feel better. "I don't know. But Pansy sleeps like the dead, if you'll pardon the horrible metaphor, and you could always try her reaction when Desdemona does something to wake her up."

This prompted a wry smile. While it was not quite the laugh Roisin had been aiming for, it was definitely an improvement. Blaise sat up, giving her a brief hug. "Thanks, Rose. But if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while."

That was understandable. Roisin nodded, "I'll send one of the others to get you when it's time for dinner."

Roisin left as quietly as she had come, but did not go to join the others in the Common Room, instead going to her own dorm and closing the curtains around her bed. For some reason, she felt like she needed a good cry.

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_A/N: This was a very hard chapter for me to write, relating very closely to the death of my own twin. While Sally drowned, rather than was killed, the first thing I heard was my mother saying that she was dead, and the next few hours refusing to accept it and trying everything to bring her back. At her funeral, we asked people to donate to the Special Needs Class that my twin attended at high school, and they now have a yearly award in her name. Tomorrow is the presentation ceremony, so forgive me for sounding maudlin._

_A/N: ff.n is refusing to let me put up the 'equals' sign in equations, so please bear with me. Constructive Criticism, as always, is more than welcome, and I apologize if anyone was offended by anything in the boggart scene._

_Thanks,  
__Nat_


	31. Hogsmeade and Halloween

_Disclaimer: Do I look like J. K. Rowling? Don't be ridiculous._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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Chapter Seven

Rumours had a way of spreading, though if Roisin found out who had spilled the beans about the boggart, there was going to be trouble. She wasn't sure what was worse, the nowhere-near-discreet looks of sympathy towards Blaise, or the speculation of why the boggart would have turned into dead classmates.

Those rumours, however, had quickly died down when a Hufflepuff, something-or-other Smith, had said that Blaise was obviously planning something, and was scared of getting caught. The end result was a vicious hexing that landed Smith under Madam Pomfrey's not-so-sympathetic care for a week, and the visibly unrepentant Roisin and Draco in detention for a fortnight.

Neville's boggart, however, was not so easily forgotten, and the story of Professor Snape in Mrs. Longbottom's dress had spread through the school like wildfire. Harry had managed to talk Dean Thomas out of drawing posters of the incident, luckily for Dean's continued existence, but it hadn't made Professor Snape any less furious about the whole mess.

It was, to an extent, very funny, but the Slytherins had enough self-preservation to keep any signs of amusement, or approval of Professor Lupin, to themselves.

* * *

In the library, Roisin threw down her quill and sat back, staring at her almost-finished Ancient Runes Homework. She had hoped to have the week's homework finished before tomorrow's Hogsmeade Weekend, but had hit a stumbling block with Ancient Runes.

They had been given several sets of runes, and asked to translate them. So far, Roisin had identified Nordic, Ogham and Hieroglyphs, but she was stuck on the last set, which looked like Anglo-Saxon, but translated into _sljd dfonke asdfhr_ when translated, so that couldn't be it.

Maybe she was looking at the problem wrong. Professor Babbling had mentioned that one set would be from a work of fiction. The class as a whole had assumed that she had meant a tale or story written in runes, but perhaps the teacher had been speaking literally. There were many works of fiction that had made up languages, many of them runic.

Roisin doubted that many witches and wizards even knew what a computer was, so that ruled computer- and video-games out. Now Roisin just had to think of authors who had used runes similar to the Anglo-Saxon runic alphabet. The only one she could think of was when she had found a copy of the Dwarvish Alphabet when she was ten, after her class had read_ The Hobbit_… That was it!

The Hogwarts Library had a small fiction section, with both Muggle and Wizarding literature. Luckily, _The Return of the King_, by J. R. R. Tolkien was still there, and Roisin quickly flipped to the appendixes. Yes! The Dwarven alphabet matched the last set of runes!

Well, there was a future ten points for Slytherin. Now she just had to translate all of them. Hieroglyphics: _What can a beautician do for a stern face?_ Roisin wondered what others would make of that. Maybe a few of them would take the hint about wearing less make-up

Ogham: _Trusting men is like trusting water in a sieve._ Well, someone was certainly bitter! How certain boys in the class would react, Roisin wasn't sure she wanted to know. She did, however, doubt that it would be positive.

Nordic: _The poor worker blames only the tool in his hand._ True enough, but how many people would be throwing their books across the room trying to finish this week's homework? It wasn't the books' fault if the students were having trouble, even if they were the 'tools' in question.

Dwarven…Oh, for Morgaine's sake! _Education is what you know, not what is in the book. Think outside the box._ It looked like the Ancient Runes Professor had a quirky sense of humor. Somehow, Roisin doubted the students would find it anywhere near as funny.

Smiling to herself at the idea of the frustration her Ancient Runes classmates would be going through as they tried to complete the last set, Roisin began to pack up her books. Kneeling to retrieve a dropped quill, she straightened up and nearly fell over again as she came face-to-face with a blonde girl that Roisin could have sworn wasn't there a second ago.

The girl had very long blonde hair, blue eyes that were slightly too big for her face, and an 'off with the fairies' look. Completely unperturbed at the fact that she had nearly given Roisin a heart attack; the girl graced her with a dreamy smile. "Hello, may I join you?"

A quick glance at the girl's robes showed that she was in Ravenclaw, and Roisin tried not to stare at her radish earrings as she gestured for the girl to sit down. "Go ahead. What's your name anyway?"

Another dazed smile. "Luna Lovegood, but everyone calls me 'Loony'. I was going to sit with my housemates, but I was afraid that the Nargles would get us. Perhaps they agreed, because they didn't want me around. The Nargles already took my potions homework, so maybe they're right."

The girl might have been a few raisins short of a fruitcake, but she seemed to grow on you. Besides, if people avoided Luna, then maybe Roisin could get a start on the Animagi book Fionna had sent her. She doubted that Nargles had been behind the homework theft, though. "Do you need help re-writing it?"

Luna shook her head. "No, the Shining Darkings will help me remember it. They don't like Nargles."

Nargles? Shining Darkings? Roisin decided not to think on it too much. Pulling out _Animagi: Facts and Fictions_, Roisin opened the book and started to read. _'Becoming an Animagus is a long and difficult process. A potion to find your Animagus form, self-transfiguration and complex charms are only the beginning…_

* * *

Roisin had barely taken two steps into the Slytherin Common Room, when she was accosted by Pansy and Desdemona. "Rosie, you're back! Blaise was looking for you; said he needed to ask you something."

Roisin rolled her eyes and managed not to snarl in frustration. "Don't call me Rosie! Now that you've delivered that message, do you know where I might find Blaise?

Pansy didn't, but Desdemona claimed that he had been escorting Theo to the Hospital Wing. Two floors up and half way across the castle, Theo said that Blaise had gone to ask Professor Sprout something down at the Greenhouses. Abandoning him to Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies, Roisin set off again.

Her search led her from the greenhouses, to an empty classroom frequently used for study groups, to the kitchens, where she spent six minutes fending off overly-helpful House elves trying to feed her, and eventually convinced them to tell her where Blaise was. After wailing about how wonderful she was to ask for their help, they pin-pointed Blaise in the Slytherin Boys Dorm.

Growling under her breath, Roisin headed back down another four levels to the Dungeons. Whatever Blaise wanted to talk to her about, it had better be damned good!

* * *

Roisin's eyes lit up as Blaise handed her a wrapped package, opening it to reveal a skin tight vest and leggings in a dark green colour. It reminded her of the outfits of Nadrak women in the _Belgariad_. (Dudley's required summer reading, much to Vernon and Petunia's displeasure. Roisin had been far more enthusiastic. Aside from her parents' dismay, helping her brother with the big words had been the closest thing to a 'Twin Moment' that Roisin and Dudley had had in years.)

Before she could say anything, or ask what it was for, Blaise started to explain. "When I went down to the Chamber of Secrets last year, there was a giant Basilisk skin lying around. I brought as much as I could back with me and had it made into a few dueling outfits. Thought you could use it if you get dragged into any more of your cousin's crazy adventures."

For several seconds, Roisin could do not more than open and close her mouth. The vest on its own was probably enough to buy at least a portion of Hogwarts! Words failing her completely, she threw her arms around Blaise and kissed him on the cheek. The Italian boy blushed. "There's a matching coat, too. It's lined with silk for comfort, and it's all self-sizing, so you don't have to worry about growing out of it, either."

Roisin blinked. Basilisk hide was even tougher than Dragon hide, and just as spell-resistant, but sizing charms worked on it? So that was why Sorcha always went for over-powered household charms in a fight. "Thank you, Blaise. This is the most amazing present I have ever received. Clothing charms work on this?"

Blaise grinned at her, relaxing slightly. "Yeah. It can block an Unforgivable, but can't resist a dying spell or a seamstress's basic charms. Ironic, isn't it?"

Roisin burst out laughing at his wicked smirk. "Very. Thank you so much."

Blaise suddenly became very interested in his hands. "Listen, Rose, you don't have to feel obligated or anything, but willyougotoHogsmeadewithme?"

Roisin blinked, not catching the last part. "Run that by me again, please. A little slower, this time."

Blaise took a deep breath. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? As potentially more than friends?"

Roisin's brain shut down for a few seconds, the jumped up and started doing a Happy-Dance as it processed the request. "I'd love to.

Another quick peck on the cheek and Roisin rushed off to try the clothing on, leaving a stunned classmate behind her.

* * *

Locking everyone else out of the dorm while she changed and preened in front of the mirror was not among Roisin's best ideas, as it resulted in a barrage of questions from the other, highly annoyed, Third-Year girls when they finally got back in.

Attempting to escape them by going for an early dinner was a better idea, but managed to backfire spectacularly when Roisin encountered Cormac McLaggan, who cornered her to ask for a Hogsmeade date. Given the Fourth-Year's reputation as a conceited prat who would do anything on a dare, such as ask out a Slytherin, Roisin took the request with a large pinch of salt and turned him down.

The more-annoying-than-usual Gryffindor's reputation as being unable to take no for an answer also seemed to be well-deserved. "Aw, come on, O'Conner. It's not like anyone else has asked you out."

Someone really needed to sit this boy down and work on his pick up lines. Telling a girl that she had no other options was not a good way to try and score a date. Hands on her hips, Roisin glared at him. "I'm going with Blaise, as a matter of fact, and even if I wasn't, I'd date the Whomping Willow before I went out with you!

It said a lot that Cormac was unable to recognize the ultimate gesture of feminine annoyance. Or maybe he just didn't care. "Black Widow Zabini's kid? Please, you can do better than that!" Roisin was about to let the idiot off with a slap before she walked away, until she heard his next comment. "Plus, dating the Whomping Willow isn't half as good as the dare of a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin."

Well, it looked like her instincts about McLaggan asking her out had been correct. Bastard. Viciously suppressing the desire to hex him six ways from Christmas, Roisin contented herself with slapping him and stalking off, pushing her way through the gathering crowd. Taking a roundabout way back to the Common Room, which was mercifully empty, Roisin called for a house elf to bring her a plate, grabbed her Arithmancy text and spent the next hour in front of the fire.

Arithmancy took up so much concentration and brainpower that there was really none left for fuming over egotistical gits, after all.

* * *

Roisin had always been faintly concerned about Desdemona's sanity, but she had credited her other dorm mates with a bit more self control.

It had started with Millicent asking why she was so worried about her outfit for the Hogsmeade weekend, and then the whole room burst into excited squeals when Roisin had mentioned visiting the Three Broomsticks with Blaise. Desdemona practically dived at Roisin's wardrobe, and started comparing with what she had in hers.

The next thing Roisin knew, she was standing in the middle of the room while Pansy and Millicent emptied their wardrobes as well, trying to mix-and-match the 'perfect first-date outfit'. The fact that Pansy was smaller than Roisin, Millicent larger, and Desdemona the wrong shape had obviously slipped their minds.

Desdemona looked up from where she was comparing two different skirts. "Millie, what shade of green did Theo say Blaise was wearing?"

Millicent shrugged (Roisin knew for a fact that Theo refused to discuss the subject of clothing, considering it 'girlish idiocy', so how would anyone, let alone Millicent, know his opinion?) while Pansy giggled at the question. "Theo is a boy, Desdemona. Boys do not notice shades. The best description you'll ever get is the equivalent colour in an eight-box of crayons."

This sparked even more frantic rummaging, and Roisin spent a few minutes simply staring at her friends before ignoring them completely and deciding on a knee-length dress of spring green, the hem, neck, and waist-line trimmed with a darker green, tall black boots, and her new Basilisk-skin coat. She wanted to look nice, but didn't want to over-do it, especially on a first date. Giving the growing mess – and three frantic teenage girls - in the dorm a last, bemused, glance, Roisin managed to sneak out without being noticed.

* * *

The_ Three Broomsticks_ was too casual for a first date, while Blaise and Roisin had taken one look at the pink hearts and cherubs in _Madam Puddifoot's_, and walked back out again, suffering from Gilderoy Lockhart flashbacks.

Ten minutes later, they wound up at the _Rendezvous_, Hogsmeade's answer to hole-in-the-wall cafés. Ordering a snack-platter and two butterbeers, Blaise and Roisin spent the first few minutes in an awkward discussion about the weather before Roisin decided that enough was enough. She had no problem talking with Blaise normally; why should they suddenly be tongue-tied just because it was a date?

This resolution in mind, Roisin commented on the recent victories of the Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch team as a conversation starter.  
While Blaise was not quite the Quidditch fanatic that some of their friends were, he was an Appleby Arrows supporter, and would cheerfully debate the infamous rivalry to the end of time. A Kenmare Kestrels fan, Roisin cared little either way, but the conversation turned from there to sarcastic remarks about Hogwarts teams and Fanatical captains, to everything else.

After the café, Roisin and Blaise visited Honeydukes, the sweetshop. Trying to ignore Hermione Granger backing away from Ron Weasley as he tried to convince her to try a Fizzing Whizbee ("Do you know what's _in_ those!"), they spent a few minutes browsing, and then left when a crowd of older students crammed in.

There was only an hour or so left before they would have to return to Hogwarts. Wandering up High Street, hand in hand with Blaise, Roisin couldn't help but think that she would remember this for a long time. Perhaps next Hogsmeade Weekend, she could ask Blaise to the Three Broomsticks…

* * *

Avoiding her Dorm mates' questions about what had happened on the date with Blaise was nearly as much fun as the date itself.

It was easy to escape interrogation during the Halloween Feast, but not so simple when they returned to the Slytherin Common Room. When Desdemona started banging on the Bathroom door while Roisin was trying to shower, however, the entertainment factor vanished and Roisin gave in.

Detailed questioning continued late into the night, and it was well past eleven when the quiet of Slytherin House was broken by a blaring alarm. Stumbling down to the Common Room, they hurried over to where Professor Snape was waiting, looking unusually grim.

Glancing around with a brief head-count, the Head of House spoke. "There is no time to lose. Sirius Black has managed to bypass the wards and enter Hogwarts. You will join the other students in the Great Hall while the Professors conduct a search of the Castle."

The Slytherins were quiet, but exchanged nervous glances with each other, huddling in groups as they left the dungeons and made their way to the Great Hall, where the rest of the students were gathered.

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A/N: Yes, I know it's been forever since I updated anything, but between looking for work, writer's block and occasional inspiration at three a.m. when I'm too tired to even pick up a pen, let alone write, it's been difficult._

_A/N: I received a slightly hostile review for the previous chapter, but it did raise some common concerns, so I've decided to address it here._

_**I like your story, although I do have some problems with it, particularly the generally positive depiction of Malfoy. His character is intended to be subhuman filth. The type of weak and pathetic opponent that Harry can easily beat on a regular basis.  
**__I'm not sure that I'd go so far as 'sub-human filth', but keep in mind that the Draco we see in the books is from Harry's POV, and they are enemies. I'm not turning him into a fluffy, muggle-loving bunny, but Draco does have friends,__ and Crabbe and Goyle could have squashed him long ago if he was too insufferable, so he can't be completely horrible._

_**Please drop the animagus **__**idea; it will turn your OC into an uber character, removing any doubt of her being a Mary-Sue.  
**__As I stated earlier, there are at least four unregistered Animagi, three of whom achieved it at the age of fifteen. Roisin and co will not become Animagi overnight, and at the moment it's only a potential future project. 'Becoming-an-Animagus' is a very frequent plot device, but not an automatic Mary-Sue.__ On a related note, where else does it need de-Mary-Sue-ing?_

_**Also, when you get to pairings, please don't stick Harry with the groupie **.  
**__Harry is unlikely to end up with Ginny, if that's what the reviewer meant. If they were talking about Roisin, I have already pointed out multiple times that Roisin is Harry's immediate cousin. I do not wri__te incest, which to me is any two people related within two generations of each other._

_That said, Constructive Critisism is very much appreciated, but flames are laughed at. Questions, praise, distain or comments, take five seconds to tell me in a review. Do everyone a favor and spend an extra three seconds avoiding 'netspeak'. If it isn't allowed in posted fics, it shouldn't be necessary in reviews._

_Thanks,  
Nat _


	32. Defense and The Dementors Return

_Disclaimer: As usual._

_Summary: The same_

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Chapter Eight

The students of Hogwarts were gathered in the Great Hall, three quarters of them looking sleepy and very confused, but with the Gryffindors wide awake and active enough to strain already tight nerves.

Leaning on Millicent's shoulder, Roisin was starting to doze off again when Dumbledore stood up, calling for attention. "The teachers and I must conduct a thorough search of the castle. I am afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects standing guard over the entrances to the hall, and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbances should be reported immediately; send word with one of the ghosts."

Dumbledore waved his wand casually as he followed the other teachers out of the door. Several of the taller students ducked as the House Tables flew overhead, standing at the edge of the Hall, and the floor was suddenly covered with large, purple sleeping bags. Wishing them all a good rest (_as if!_), Dumbledore closed the door behind him.

The Great Hall instantly began buzzing with talk as the Gryffindors started telling everyone what had happened, ignoring Percy Weasly as he ordered everyone into their sleeping bags. Having already heard the cliff-notes version from the twins, Roisin drifted over to They-Who-Knew-All, occasionally known as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

Despite popular opinion, the two girls did make sure that they had their facts as straight as possible before they started telling people, who, in turn, began exaggerating things. Given their cultured reputation as gossiping airheads, Roisin often wondered how they had avoided going to Slytherin, and supposed that the Sorting Hat must have wanted to spare the rest of the House.

Getting confirmation and a few more details from Parvati, Roisin went back to where the rest of her year mates were, filling them in as she set up her sleeping bag. Settling in for a long night, Roisin smirked and put up a low-level barrier as the candles promptly extinguished.

Those who had been too busy talking to get into their own were now stuck fumbling around in the dark, resulting in several non-magical curses as people tried to get into their own sleeping bags without falling or tripping over somebody else. Attempting to find a comfortable position on the cold, stone floor, Roisin cast a mild Drowsiness Charm on herself, swiftly falling asleep.

* * *

Hogwarts spent the next few days awash with speculation on how Black had managed to get into the castle, ranging from being able to turn himself into a flowering shrub (Hannah Abbot of Hufflepuff), to Apparation or a Broomstick, to some physical disguise. Most of the more common ones were shot down by Hermione, accompanied by rhetoric demands of if she was the only person to have read _Hogwarts, a History,_ which she probably was.

Roisin was more inclined toward Luna's quiet theory that he had snuck in by transfiguring himself into a flea on a rat, though perhaps with a few adjustments to the idea. After all, Roisin doubted that a natural rat, unless it was registered as a student's pet, would have made it through the anti-vermin charms, and wondered how a flea could hold a wand to transfigure himself back into a human.

Unfortunately, very few people took the young Ravenclaw at all seriously, and that theory was dismissed with a few jokes about how they were looking for _Sirius_ Black, rather than the Black _Plague._

* * *

Thankfully, the speculation died down after a week or two, along with the good weather, and Roisin tried to focus on keeping ahead in her schoolwork. Arithmancy was going well, but Ancient Runes was quickly becoming Roisin's favorite, only partially because it was her place to shine.

Roisin had received twenty points for correctly deciphering all of the rune sets, along with a barrage of questions from fellow students as to how the heck she had figured it out, and a frosty silence from Hermione and the two unknown Ravenclaws. To everyone's surprise, those three had not been able to figure the last set of runes out, and were taking it personally.

For all her intelligence, and being a muggleborn, Gryffindor's resident brainiac was too focused on academic sources, giving little faith or attention to anything that had not been verified by at least three qualified historians/specialists/researchers, making it difficult to trust anything 'unproven', or to think outside the box.

* * *

Irate classmates, however, also quickly fell to the background as the first game of the Quidditch Season approached. Originally, it was supposed to be Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, a game that would have started the season of with a bang (and several injuries).

Fortunately or unfortunately, however, the steadily worsening weather had prompted Flint to use Draco's "Injured Arm" as an excuse and switch with Hufflepuff. Roisin rarely paid that much attention to Quidditch, but it was hard to miss Flint and Draco's gloating, or Oliver Wood's outraged shouting when he found out.

Tuning both captains out, Roisin decided to let the rest of the school worry about Quidditch, and she would worry about how to get to a book about the Animagi revealing potion. The book in question had recently been moved to the restricted section of the Library, and was therefore largely inaccessible.

Roisin managed to get a note signed with help from Luna, in exchange for taking out a three-year-subscription to _the Quibbler_, a lesser-known paper run by Luna's Father. Despite her occasional oddities, Luna was a favorite of Professor Flitwick, so when she said she needed the book for a _Quibbler_ article; he signed the note with a smile of amused tolerance.

It was almost like having a little sister, at times, and with the way her housemates treated her, it seemed like Luna could use a friend. Roisin was seriously considering the possibility of adopting Luna as an honorary Slytherin. The enigmatic blonde was unafraid of being herself, scarily intelligent, and really quite enjoyable to be around.

* * *

The Friday before the first Quidditch match, Roisin was late to Defense Against the Dark Arts, having stopped to hex a group of Ravenclaws who were bullying Luna (hopefully they enjoyed being turned into Luna's description of a Blibbering Humdinger) and help the girl retrieve her scattered belongings.

Hoping that Professor Lupin was one of the ones who gave chances when you were late, Roisin nearly collided with Harry, who muttered something about obsessed Quidditch Captains as they ran for the classroom, arriving ten minutes late and skidding to a halt as they realized that it was Professor Snape, rather than Lupin, who stood at the front of the room.

Knowing for a fact that she would not be in trouble when Professor Snape was teaching, Roisin slid into a seat next to Desdemona just in time to hear Professor Snape take ten points from Gryffindor, as predicted by just about everyone in the class, before starting the lesson. "As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has left no record of the topics you have covered so far –"

To her misfortune and everyone else's resignation, Hermione interrupted. "Please, sir, we've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows."

There were few things that Professor Snape hated more than being interrupted, as Hermione should have learned after over two years under his instruction. "Be quiet, I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

While this was being unfair to Professor Lupin, and even the Slytherins were forced to admit it, Roisin knew that protesting out loud would be counter-productive. She also knew that Dean Thomas was likewise aware, though he chose to respond anyway. "He's the best Defense Professor we've ever had!"

Although this was not saying much, as Professor Lupin's precessors were Quirrel and Lockhart, a murmur of agreement rippled through the class, even from the Slytherins. Professor Snape did not look pleased. "You are easily satisfied. I would expect First Years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss Werewolves."

Roisin wondered about Professor Snape's choice, as the Werewolf chapter was near the back of the book, and due to be covered shortly before the end-of-year tests, rather than a few months into the School Year. Roisin raised her hand to quietly point this out, bracing herself for detention, but was forestalled by Hermione. "But sir, we're not supposed to do Werewolves yet. We're due to start Hinkypunks –"

Roisin swiftly lowered her hand in self-preservation when Professor Snape's tone turned to one of deadly calm. "Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I was taking this class, not you. I am telling you to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." The Slytherins and one or two Gryffindors obeyed, causing Professor Snape to snap, "_All_ of you. _Now!_"

With several bitter, sidelong looks and not a little muttering, as even the Slytherins knew that their lack of foreknowledge would result in being shown up by Hermione, the class opened their books. Professor Snape began to prowl the room, as he did in Potions. "Which of you can tell me how to distinguish between a Werewolf and a true wolf?"

Roisin tried to remember what she had heard about Werewolves from listening to a few Fourth Years doing their homework. _The differences had to do with the snout, pupils and tail…_ As the rest of the class wracked their brains, Hermione's hand was, predictably, the first in the air.

For unknown reasons, Professor Snape ignored it, focusing on the rest of the class. "Anyone? Are you telling me that Professor Lupin has not even taught you the basic distinction –"

The pupils of a Werewolf were red, as opposed to the gold of a real wolf! Roisin lifted her hand to point this out, but Parvati Patil interrupted before Professor Snape could call on her. "We told you, we haven't got as far as Werewolves yet! We're due to start…"

"_Silence_!" Professor Snape almost hissed, "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a Third Year class that couldn't recognize a Werewolf when they saw one. I shall be informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are. Did you have a question, Miss O'Conner?"

Roisin wondered if now was the best time to speak, as Professor Snape seemed to be counting on them _not_ knowing about Werewolves, and would probably get nasty if she contradicted this. Still, her hand was up, and she could hardly back out after being called on. "A true wolf has golden eyes, while a werewolf has red pupils. Um,"

Roisin tried to remember more details, turning up blank, but as Roisin had not been scolded for replying, Hermione decided to try again. "Please, sir, the Werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of a werewolf…"

It seemed that Professor Snape's notorious short temper had taken enough interruptions. "This is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Five more points from Gryffindor, for being an insufferable Know-it-all."

Roisin thought this was rather unfair, especially as he had said nothing to Roisin, for which she was thankful. She sent Hermione a sympathetic look as the Gryffindor went very red and stared at the floor, tears in her eyes and hands in her lap. Blaise and the other Slytherin girls looked uncomfortable.

The Gryffindors all glared at Professor Snape, obviously feeling that this was going a bit far, even though all of them had called Hermione a Know-it-all at least once. Ron Weasley was more vocal in his protests. "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

The entire class winced in unison as Professor Snape advanced on the Redhead. "Detention, Weasley. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very, very sorry."

Although there was often something to criticize, the class knew that now was most certainly not the time. The rest of the lesson was spent in silence, as they read the chapter and took notes, while Professor Snape commented on their previous work, making derogatory remarks.

Roisin had to bite her tongue when he looked over one of her previous essays and claimed that it barely deserved three out of ten, rather than the eight it had been marked. Further, he claimed that the Kappa was more commonly found in Mongolia, rather than Japan, with Korea a moderately close second.

Given that all sources named the Kappa as a _Japanese_ water-demon, that almost all studies of Kappas took place in Japan, and that the water that gave the Kappa its strength was supposedly from the lakes sacred to the _Shintō_ Religion, Roisin found this blatantly unfair.

When the bell finally rang, the class was held back long enough to be assigned an essay on Werewolves, consisting of two rolls of parchment on how to recognize and kill them, due on Monday. Given that Roisin was already near to tears from Professor Snape's comment, usually reserved for Gryffindors, this was the last thing she needed.

The standard roll of parchment was 6.5 feet long, and most school essays ranged from one to five feet in length, depending on the class and what was being covered. Thirteen feet of parchment in three days, especially when one of those days was a Quidditch Match, was impossible for even the Slytherins to claim as fair.

Out of earshot, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike burst into protest about the homework. Sneaking off to the side to avoid the questioning looks that people had been sneaking her for most of the lesson, Roisin burst into tears and decided to skip History of Magic to hide in the library, where Luna usually spent her free period.

Roisin liked her Year Mates, but they were as confused as she was, and weren't really the sort to sit and listen to a problem. Luna knew all about unfair treatment and would hopefully be the listening ear that Roisin desperately needed right now.

* * *

The next day started with Roisin in a foul mood. Luna had been very comforting about the Defense class fiasco, but the second Roisin walked into the Slytherin Common Room, she was bombarded with questions or jeers on what she did to make Professor Snape treat her like that.

Fed up, Roisin had stalked straight back out and spent the night in the library, intent on spending the night there. If Professor Snape was going to falsely accuse her of shoddy work, then he could find something wrong while reading through thirteen feet of top grade homework in the most obscure wording she could find! If she had to write it, then he damn well had to read it!

Unfortunately, a library table did not make for a good night's sleep, which, in turn, made for a cranky Roisin the next morning. Regally Ignoring her House Mates, Roisin cast water-repelling charms on everything she wore, as the outside weather was worse than ever, and sat with Luna at the Ravenclaw table, spending the morning in a cheerful debate over the possible habitat of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

Eventually running out to the Quidditch stands, which were a lot emptier than usual, Roisin joined the Ravenclaws, all of whom were busy casting water-repelling charms on themselves and on large sheets, which were then levitated above the stands as a makeshift shelter.

The Quidditch game continued for several hours, but even this did not generate the usual excitement, as the spectators could barely see the game in the first place. Just as the students around her were starting to whisper about going back inside, Roisin suddenly felt a cold chill that had nothing to do with the rain, and faint sounds that sounded very much like her parents calling her a freak.

Roisin swore loudly, glancing at Luna, who looked both scared and tearful as she whispered something that sounded like 'Mummy'. Nearby, a few older students had managed to produce silvery mist, some in vague outlines, and had taken a stand in front of the other students.

Roisin's attention, however, was quickly drawn elsewhere, specifically at her cousin, who was plummeting from what looked like fifty or sixty feet in the air. There was a spell for slowing things down, but what was it! In the teacher's stand, Professor Dumbledore stood up, shooting a spell that seemed to cushion Harry, though it didn't stop him completely, followed by a spell that looked very much like the one the Ravenclaws were producing, but much more solid.

The Dementors backed away, and Roisin followed most of the rest of the school back inside, pulling Luna with her.

* * *

Leaving Luna in the Ravenclaw Second Year Dorms and promising to come back as soon as possible, Roisin had run to the Dorms to change into something dry, then run straight back out and toward the hospital wing.

Half-way there, she collided with a tall, brown-haired young man in Hufflepuff Quidditch robes, who reached out and steadied her. Regaining her balance, she nodded at the Hufflepuff. "Thanks. Cedric, right?"

Cedric Diggory nodded in return. "And you're Roisin O'Conner, Harry Potter's cousin. Hey, if you're on your way to the hospital wing, can you tell him I hope he recovers soon?"

Roisin lifted an eyebrow. "Of course, but out of sheer curiosity, is there a reason you can't tell him yourself."

Cedric grinned, and Roisin saw why the older girls kept discreetly swooning over him, despite being a Hufflepuff. "I went up to try, but the Weasley twins glared me back out. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of a Weasley prank spree, so I figured I'd come back later."

Roisin smiled in amusement, understanding completely. There was an ongoing and very close debate about whether or not a Weasley Twin prank spree was worse than detention in the forbidden forest. Regardless, no sane person wanted to be on the receiving end.

Bidding goodbye to Cedric, Roisin arrived at the Hospital Wing just as Harry was regaining conciousness. He bolted upright with far too much energy for someone who had just fallen off his broom. "What happened?"

Everyone jumped back in surprise. Fred (or possibly George) Weasley recovered first, "You fell off. Must have been – what – fifty feet?"

Alicia Spinnet, who was shivering from either cold, or nerves, or possibly both, agreed with the twin. "We thought you'd died."

Hermione, whose eyes were very bloodshot with worry, made a small, squeaky noise as she nodded her head.

Roisin closed her eyes in resignation as Harry sounded completely unconcerned about the near-death experience. Then again, he was probably getting used to them. "But the match. What happened, are we having a replay?"

The Gryffindor team squirmed, avoiding his eyes, and Harry looked like the world had ended. "We didn't – _lose_?"

Roisin rolled her eyes at him, as the twin who hadn't yet spoken continued the explanation. "Diggory got the snitch, just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match."

Roisin thought that this was a good time to interject. "He came by while you were unconscious, too. Said he hoped you recovered soon."

The Weasly twins shot her an evil look and continued as if Roisin had not spoken. Quidditch obsessed idiots. "Hufflepuff won fair and square, though. Even Wood admits it."

Actually, Wood was nowhere to be seen, which was surprising. Harry came to the same conclusion. "Where is he, anyway?"

The first twin answered, looking almost sympathetic. "Still in the showers – we think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry buried his head in his knees, looking even more depressed than before. The Weasley Twin shook his shoulder roughly. "C'mon, Harry, it's not like you've never missed a snitch before."

The second twin agreed. "Yeah, there had to be one time you didn't catch it."

The first twin took up the encouragement. "It's not over yet. We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff lose to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

The second twin continued, disagreeing. "Hufflepuff will have to lose by at least two hundred points."

The chasers joined in the debate, leaving Harry to himself. Roisin joined Ron and Hermione, sitting in silence at Harry's side. After about ten minutes, Madam Pomfrey swooped over and threw the team out. Roisin followed, heading down to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

* * *

The bronze knocker that guarded the Ravenclaw Common Room must not have been in top form, as the question to get inside was the egg riddle from the Hobbit. Walking in, Roisin found the Common Room largely deserted, except for a few huddled groups, probably discussing the Dementors appearing on school grounds, and Luna, curled up next to the fireplace.

Walking over quietly, Roisin sat down next to her younger friend. "Are you feeling any better?"

Luna shook her head, looking strangely vunerable. "I'm still scared. The Dementors came close, and I heard my mother. I know I'll see her again, but I miss her so much. I don't want to talk about it."

Her arm still around the younger girl, Roisin looked at her seriously, knowing that this was not the time to pry. "You can trust me, you know. Slytherin has a bad reputation, but not all of us are blood-obsessed gits. I won't force you to tell me anything, but I'll listen if you need to talk about it."

Luna smiled slightly. "I know, and thank you." They spotted another Ravenclaw trying to eavesdrop, and Roisin swiftly adopted an expression of amused tolerance as Luna continued in a louder voice, "It's the Snorkacks, you see…"

The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes and walked off, probably to tell his friends that it was just Luna being her usual odd self.

Roisin continued to sit with Luna, enjoying a comforting silence, until Professor Flitwick showed up to take them all to dinner, saying that they needed to eat after the incident with the Dementors.

_hp_

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* * *

_

A/N: Yes, it's been forever, I know. Looking for work, an original novel, and a massive case of writers block is the only excuse I can offer. Hopefully the people reading this haven't given up on me completely. I'm not sure how long it will be before the next chapter, but hopefully it won't be a four-month gap.

_A.N: Someone mentioned that they wished for more deviation from Canon. This is a slow development, but will become increasingly obvious in later chapters. Be paitent._

_Reviews are very welcome. *hint, hint*_

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	33. The Rest of Term

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

**

* * *

**

Chapter Nine

Roisin visited Harry, who was still confined to the hospital wing, twice more over the weekend, one time running into Cedric Diggory, who had visited again after the Weasley Twins had left, and was actually in the middle of a civil conversation with Harry.

From what Roisin could pick up, they were trying to piece together a run-down of the full Quidditch game, given that no-one had been able to see more than a few feet in front of their own noses. Stifling a giggle, Roisin left the hospital wing, delivering a necklace with a single butterbeer cork from Luna, which the younger girl claimed would repel Nargles.

Precisely what Nargles were was beyond Roisin, but as Harry said, looking slightly dubious, it was the thought that counted.

All in all, it was a relief when Monday came.

Roisin was back on speaking terms with most of her year, once they had apologized for the teasing after Defense Against the Dark Arts, with the exception of Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco had finally cast off his bandages from the Hippogryff, and was celebrating his new freedom by doing impersonations of Harry falling off his broom. Roisin, who had not found it nearly as amusing, took every opportunity to glare and tell him to shut up.

They were currently in Potions, and Draco took advantage of Professor Snape's distraction to start yet another performance. Gripping her knife very obviously, Roisin turned toward the blond, who froze mid-faint, but she had barely opened her mouth before being hit on the back of the head by something.

Blaise, working beside her, picked it up and placed it on the workbench, revealing it to be a crocodile heart. A literally bleeding heart had hit her on the head! Furious, she whirled around, spotting the culprit as Ron Weasley turned very pale.

Slime and blood dripping from her hair and Robes, Roisin was about to respond in a particularly nasty way, (she wasn't sure how, but it would not be in any way pleasant) but Professor Snape got there first, taking fifty points from Gryffindor.

* * *

Roisin was excused from the rest of the Potions lesson to go and clean up. Three showers and a change of robes later, Roisin was running toward the Defense Classroom, cursing the distance between classes. Oddly, or perhaps not so, most of the class was clustered outside the door, despite the first bell having already rung.

Slowing down slightly and trying to twist her damp hair into a semblance of order, she approached the crowd just in time to hear Ron speaking to Harry. "If Snape's taking Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm going off sick. Check who's there, Hermione."

Roisin knew that skiving off would be a bad idea, but privately agreed that she wasn't looking forward to a repeat of Professor Snape's last Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Luckily for all concerned, Professor Lupin seemed to have recovered, though he still looked unwell, and was promptly bombarded with protests about last week's homework.

"It's not fair! He was only filling in; why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about Werewolves!"

"– Two rolls of Parchment!"

Professor Lupin frowned, seeming to agree with the students, at least partially. "Did you tell Professor Snape that we hadn't covered them yet?"

This prompted yet another round of everyone trying to talk over each other. As if that hadn't been the first thing they had tried! "Yes, but he said that we were really behind."

"He wouldn't listen – "

"– _two rolls of Parchment!_

Finally, Professor Lupin smiled at the expressions of indignation. "Don't worry; I shall speak to Professor Snape about the homework. You don't have to do the essay."

That was certainly a relief. Roisin had started it, writing down everything she could find, but had only managed to fill two thirds of a roll of parchment. Hermione, of course, instantly protested that she had already finished it. More than one person, from both Houses, rolled their eyes.

Finally, everyone settled down, and they started the lesson. Professor Lupin produced a large glass box, containing what appeared to be wisps of smoke forming a frail and harmless-looking little creature with one leg, and who looked to be holding a tiny lantern.

In case Professor Snape ever took the class again, Roisin was not going to give him any chance to criticize again, taking detailed notes on Professor Lupin's lecture. "The Hinkypunk lures travelers into the bog. You see the lantern dangling from its hand? People follow the lights as the Hinkypunk hops ahead, and then –"

The Hinkypunk made a horrible, squelching noise against the glass, which left everyone in very little doubt as to the general, but probably ominous fate of said innocent traveler. Ick.

Professor Lupin called for Harry to stay back at the end of class, but Roisin thought little of it; all the teachers had been acting strangely of late, at least as far as Harry was concerned. Meanwhile, Roisin had her own problems. Desdemona had suggested trying to become Animagi, and the rest of the year had enthusiastically agreed, but so far, Roisin seemed to be the only one doing any work on the subject. Either that would change, or the rest of them could become Animagi on their own time, without help from Roisin.

* * *

Over the summer, Aunt Marge had attempted some 'Bonding Time' with Roisin. In order to make the incident slightly less torturous, Roisin had directed the subject toward breeding and asked if she could buy a notebook to write things down. As a consequence, Roisin had spent three hours drawing random patterns in a muggle notebook, while trying to keep an attentive expression plastered on her face.

As usual, Aunt Marge had gone overboard with buying things for Roisin, but the 5-subject spiral notebooks proved very useful in keeping track of her Ancient Runes and Arithmancy notes, rather than rifling through countless rolls of parchment.

Better still, none of her House mates would go near such obviously Muggle things (although Blaise and Desdemona were slightly better at judging things on merit over origins), making the notebooks perfect for hiding the Animagi research.

Opening Fionna's copy of _Moste Potente Potions_, Roisin flipped to a clean page in her notebook and began taking down the ingredients for the Animagus potion. Some could be easily found in the Student Storeroom, but others, such as the diluted Erumpent fluid would have to be owled in. There was a Hogsmeade visit near the end of term, and she could visit the potions shop there, or convince Fionna to take her shopping over the Christmas Holidays.

Given the probable cost of the ingredients, Roisin had an idea of another reason not all wizards tried to become Animagi. Vernon and Petunia had found it hard to shop for Roisin as a child, and compensated by giving her money to buy her own gifts. Over 11 years, this added up to a lot, which was currently stored in a muggle bank account. Even if she converted it to galleons, however, the cost of the ingredients would still make a significant dent.

Roisin's calculations of how much she had in muggle money converted to galleons, given the current exchange rate and minus the conversion fee was interrupted by Millicent entering the dorm. "Hi, Roisin. Oh, are you working on the Animagus Project? Can I see?"

Roisin snapped her notebook closed. "Yes, I am working on the Animagus Project, and no, you can't look. If I'm going to be the only one working on the project, then I'm going to be the only one reaping the benefits."

Millicent opened her mouth to refute the statement, closed it again, and was about to speak when she was interrupted by Pansy and Desdemona. "What's going on, and why is Roisin wearing her 'Stubborn-Determination' look?"

Roisin maintained an icy silence, so Millicent took it on herself to explain. "Roisin was working on the Animagus Project, but says that since none of us have been helping, she isn't going to show us her notes."

Pansy looked indignant. "We've been helping!" Roisin raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Sort of." Roisin's other eyebrow joined the first. "A bit." Roisin folded her arms. "OK, fine, we've been letting you do everything. But we can change that, if you let us look at the notes."

Roisin's arms remained folded. "I wasn't put in Slytherin because I look good in green, you know. You'll see my notes if and when I see some productive input from _all of you_, and not before. That goes for they boys as well, and you can tell them I said that!"

Grabbing her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes notes and textbooks, along with the Animagus notebook, Roisin stalked off to the library. A Dramatic Exit would have been useless if she left the Animagus notebook sitting on her bed, after all, and she really did have homework to do.

* * *

It was not until the next week that the other Third Year Slytherins sheepishly approached Roisin in the library, where she was teaching Luna a nasty hex to put on her homework binder, guaranteed to keep away everything from Nargles to spiteful room-mates. It was unofficial Slytherin Policy to never be put in a position where you needed to apologize in the first place, so none of them said anything, but opened up their books on Animagi and Advanced Transfiguration.

Guiding Luna through the correct wand movements and demonstrating on her Animagus notebook (Draco smothered a disappointed scowl - that spoiled any plans he had of sneaking a peek), Roisin smirked slightly. It was probably the closest she would get to an apology, but at least the point made it across.

* * *

It was the day before the Winter Holidays, and from the number of Second-Year Ravenclaws glaring at her, not to mention Luna's much more cheerful expression, it seemed that Roisin's younger friend had mastered the Alarm Hex. Browsing through the Hogsmeade Bookstore for a book on rare magical creatures as a congratulations/Yule gift for Luna, Roisin didn't see Blaise until she ran into him. "Hey, Rose, everyone's waiting at the Three Broomsticks. Are you coming?"

Yes, she was, but there was still fifteen minutes remaining before they had agreed to meet at noon. "Yes, just let me buy this and I'll be there in a few."

* * *

The Three Broomsticks was an excellent place to meet, largely because it was so busy that no one paid attention to what anyone else was doing. Once they were all settled down with mugs of steaming Butterbeer, Draco glanced around to see if anyone was listening and pulled out a list. "One of the steps included in the Animagus Transformation is a potion. Question is: how do we make it? Some of the ingredients look pretty rare."

Rogue sighed as a few people glanced their way in response to Draco's constant looking to make sure no one was paying attention. "Draco, are you _trying_ to look conspicuous? Stop looking around, people are noticing. As to the potion, most of the ingredients are common enough, and your father has contacts in most of the Ministry; I'm sure he can help with the rest. Our real problem is how to brew it without anyone catching on."

Theo nodded in agreement. "There's no way we can do it at Hogwarts. It takes a week of near-constant supervision to brew, and there is no way we'll manage that between classes and curfew, even without Professors and other students around. We'll have to do it over the Holidays at some point."

Blaise was looking over the list of ingredients. "It'll have to be the Easter ones, then. Mum's latest husband can probably get some diluted Erumpent fluid, but it would take at least a week to owl in. The Christmas Holidays are only two weeks."

Roisin nodded, stifling a giggle at Blaise's description of 'latest husband'. "I can get the Augurey feathers and I might be able to talk Harry into getting the tongue from last year's Basilisk. Blaise is right though; even if we do get all of the ingredients, we won't be able to start until Easter."

Millicent shrugged. "That isn't too bad, though. It gives us a chance to do more research, and that potion doesn't look easy, so we'd better practice in order to get it right the first time."

Pansy concurred with the previous opinions. "Well, lets at least visit the potions shop while we're here. We can do inventory on what they do have, what will be in our own standard potions kit and what we need to get ourselves, then make a list of what it will cost."

Roisin had actually brought her previously calculated list, and pulled it out of her bag. "I made the list already. Lacewings, Moonstone, daisy roots and shrivelfig are in our potions kit, we can get the beetle eyes and possibly the hellebore and powdered bezoars at the potions shop, and Blaise and I can get hold of the Erumpent fluid and Augurey feathers. That's a third of the list, and two expensive ingredients taken care of. See what you can get hold of over the holidays, and we'll compare notes when we get back."

Finishing the butterbeer, the small group headed out again, brushing past Professors McGonagall and Hagrid as they left.

* * *

The next day seemed to pass in a flash, despite pestering younger relatives running around in a panic and constantly pestering you to help find something that they had forgotten to pack and couldn't find, or the long train ride back to London.

Then, of course, Mary just had to announce that Roisin was dating Blaise, which meant that the next three days were filled with _everyone_ asking questions, and Roisin trying to avoid them.

When you added Yule and Wren Day, and various activities that made people suspicious if you declined, especially given previous obvious enjoyment, it made for a very busy holiday, and it was not until four days before the beginning of term that Roisin managed to talk Fionna into taking her on a walk to an area where the local flock of Augureys were usually found.

Given that it was almost always raining in Ireland, not to mention their native habitat, Augureys were not hard to find, if slightly difficult to get to and feathers even less so. Roisin did have to dodge a few pointed questions as to why she wanted them, but a few vague implications that she wanted to play a trick on certain classmates by switching their quills with feathers that repealed ink resulted in dropping the subject.

The remaining days were filled with riding, games, and generally having fun, and all too soon, it was time to return to Hogwarts.

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A/N: The next chapter is up, and it only took a bit over a week! The "Pestering younger reletives is a reference to my sister, who always remembers something five seconds before we have to leave. Not much action this time, but this was a bit more of a 'filler' chapter. Hopefully the next one will be up soon.

_Reviews are very welcome and (usually) make me write faster! *hint, hint*._

_Thanks, Nat._


	34. And Back To Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I'm getting very tired of writing these, and I'm sure that you're getting very tired of reading them. I do not own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Returning to Hogwarts was normal enough, if you discounted the Dementors and the fact that it was a castle filled with adolescent Witches and Wizards. What was very obviously not normal was the glaring split in the usually-inseparable trio of Harry and Ron, and Hermione.

A few words to Luna, who was much more observant than people gave her credit for, gifted Roisin with the knowledge that it had to do with Hermione's interfering on something that Ron and Harry found unreasonable, and her complete refusal to apologize for not talking to them about it first. The end result was Hermione avoiding the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron acting like she had performed an extreme felony, and Harry refusing to talk to Hermione until she apologized.

That made it a very intriguing puzzle, but Roisin felt that she should probably give them some time to cool down and work it out themselves before she tried to poke her nose in. She still needed to ask Harry about getting the Basilisk tongue, so perhaps she could get more details out of him then.

It was not until Thursday that Roisin managed to catch Harry on the way to lunch and stop him long enough to talk. "Hey, Harry, do you have –." She stopped her request mid-sentence as she saw his face. "What on earth happened? Are you all right?"

Harry sighed, relieved to have someone to talk to that was less likely to result in a lost friendship. "It's a long story, but essentially, I received a Firebolt for Christmas, there was no card and Hermione wound up getting it confiscated by Professor McGonagall. The Professor thinks that the Firebolt was sent by Sirius Black and wants to strip it down to check for curses and such."

Roisin nearly choked. A Firebolt? All right, that was slightly suspicious, but very few people would sign their name to such an expensive gift unless they knew Harry _very_ well, escaped convict or not. How would Black even buy a broomstick in the first place? And stripping down a Firebolt would be something that Ron would consider a felony. Roisin just hoped Oliver Wood didn't find out. "So that's what Luna was talking about. Confiscating a Firebolt sounds a bit extreme, though."

Harry gave her a scandalized look, obviously under the impression that 'extreme' was an understatement. "Yes! I have been taking the whole Sirius Black issue seriously, and we were planning to have Madam Hooch supervise a test flight, just in case, but now I'll be lucky if there's anything left to fly! I know Hermione thinks that she was only looking out for me, but she won't even apologize for not talking to me about it, first! And who's Luna?"

Roisin smiled slightly. "Second Year Ravenclaw who is a lot more observant than people think. The split between the Golden Trio is very out of the ordinary, so I asked her about it. I'm guessing that part of the issue is that she didn't bother to talk to you or get your opinion before running to a Professor?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I mean, it's a _Firebolt_, but Hermione is my friend. I'm mainly upset that either she doesn't trust me, or she thinks that I'm incapable of making my own decisions, so she does it for me. Can we change the topic, please?"

Roisin smiled again. "Certainly. Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor. I'm working on an extra-curricular project, or was, until I found out that one of the ingredients was half of a Basilisk tongue. You killed the Basilisk last year, so, technically, you 'have claim over the spoils of your victory'. I can probably go down by myself, with you teaching me Parseltongue, but I sort of need your permission, and I need to offer you something in exchange."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead, I'm not using the Basilisk remains. You can have the tongue if you tell me the potion."

Drat, he just had to land on the one question she didn't want to answer. Roisin grimaced slightly "It's the Animagus Potion. The whole process isn't that hard, actually, but almost no-one bothers to register with the Ministry."

Harry raised an eyebrow, a small smirk taking the sting out of his joking words. "Why not? Evil Slytherins and nefarious purposes?"

Roisin stuck out her tongue, playfully. "Big words, cousin-mine. More like they didn't see how it was the Ministry's business, or they turned into something embarrassing, and didn't want it on public record. I think Desdemona's Third Cousin, whatever removed turned into a horned slug, or something like that."

Harry snickered. "I'm not going to comment on that. Professor Lupin promised to teach me the Patronus Charm on Thursday at eight, and lessons finish at four. I'll meet you outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom after class on Thursday, and we can go down then."

Roisin hugged him in delight, forgoing her usual reserve. "That sounds wonderful, and good luck with your Patronus lessons and working things out with Hermione. I'm sure the Firebolt will be back in one piece."

* * *

Lessons had started again, and Roisin's Arithmancy class had moved onto the importance of numbers in more complex spell casting. For example, permanent or semi-permanent spells required four small wand movements to cast; four being the number of stability.

Other spells were based on similar reasoning, with most transfiguration required five components (Power, Determination, Intent, Spell and Wand Motion); five being the number of change and instability.

No one particularly felt like trudging outside in the January weather, but at least Care Of Magical Creatures was focused on Salamanders, so they were allowed to stand around a large, warm fire all lesson.

Seamus Finnigan commented that when people were going to dance around the bonfire, they were usually naked, and weren't girls supposed to be wrapped up in tradition? The female portion of the class nearly sent him to the Hospital Wing, but Hagrid intervened.

In Ancient Runes, Professor Babbling had them working on the differences and similarities of different rune sets, and how they changed over time. In any spare time, Roisin also focused on fictional rune languages, as Professor Babbling was fond of throwing such curve balls on occasion, just to see who was paying the closest attention.

Signing your essay in Quenya also tended to earn extra credit, as Roisin had accidentally discovered when fretting over how she had performed on a difficult essay topic. Apparently it showed that you were making an 'extra effort', and therefore deserved extra marks.

* * *

All in all, it was a relief when Thursday came and classes finished. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was not difficult to find, as the ghost in question had no qualms about making herself known. Opening the passage to the Chamber of Secrets was likewise easy, although the idea of sliding down the waste-covered pipes was enough to give anyone pause.

Closing her eyes with a faintly martyred expression, Roisin closed her eyes and slid down, casting several of the strongest cleaning charms she knew the instant she flew out of the other end. Harry followed seconds later, looking only marginally cleaner than she had, and causing Roisin to cast several of the same spells on him before they continued onward.

Walking over the animal skeletons that seemed to cover every inch of the floor was not a pleasant experience, nor was trying to crawl through the small opening between a rockslide that blocked the passage at one point. When they reached the actual chamber, and Roisin saw the body of the dead Basilisk, her legs failed her and she sat down hard. "You actually fought that thing? It's got to be thirty feet long!"

Harry looked faintly embarrassed. "Yeah, I was a bit busy trying to stay alive to measure it, last time. I don't suppose you know how to harvest Basilisk parts, because I have no clue."

A few weeks before the end of last term, Professor Snape had received a shipment of poisonous snakes, unfortunately still alive. Upon the discovery that Blaise and Roisin were learning to speak Parseltongue, he had dragooned them into helping him milk the snakes, before turning them into potions ingredients.

As a result, Roisin knew a lot about harvesting snake parts, and took out her dragon-hide gloves, several tools and a specially prepared jar, enchanted for durability, preservation, and everything else the Third-Year Slytherins could think of. Luckily, Roisin only needed half of the tongue, so crawling inside the beast's mouth was un-necessary.

Not knowing how much time they had left before they would be missed, the task was quickly finished, and they made their way back to the pipe, where Harry stopped, having just thought of a problem. "Last time, we had Fawkes to carry us to the Bathroom. Since we forgot to bring a phoenix, I don't suppose you have any ideas about how we get back up?"

As a matter of fact, Roisin did have an idea. Rolling her eyes and giving Harry a faintly patronizing look, Roisin pointed her wand at her feet. "Gryffindors. _Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Roisin levitated into the air, smiling at Harry, who was clearly questioning why he hadn't thought of that. Casting a low-level protective charm and pulling out two large fans that she had brought with her, Roisin tossed one to Harry and began carefully propelling herself back up to the bathroom.

Hopefully she would have time for a long, hot shower before dinner.

* * *

Roisin and Desdemona bluntly refused to attend the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, fearing a repeat of the last match, and spent the time in the library, continuing their research on Animagi. Slytherin won, by a narrow margin, but Roisin had never paid much attention to Quidditch.

January slipped into February, with no change in the bitter weather. Parcels and packages containing potions ingredients arrived, and were stored in a disillusioned cabinet in Slytherin Head Boy's Room, (each house had a set of 'Head Boy/Girl rooms, but the female dorms were not an option).

The Third Years, began to spend most of their free time in the Slytherin potions lab, going over the different techniques of brewing that they would need when the time came to brew the potion. While admittedly tiring and time-consuming, Goyle had pointed out that at least they would fly through this year's Potions Exam. Millicent threw a wadded-up piece of parchment at him.

* * *

The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match began to loom closer, which would normally be of little consequence, but this time would determine who Slytherin would be facing for the Quidditch Cup this year.

Professor McGonagall returned Harry's Firebolt, thankfully in good condition, which restored the Golden Trio for about half a day, when Hermione's cat supposedly ate Ron Weasley's pet rat, sparking another fight.

The tension was easy to spot, but the reason was surprisingly well-hidden. Roisin only found out when she was in the Library looking for a reference book on Charms and she heard the sound of someone trying not to cry. Following the noise, she came upon Hermione Granger.

Roisin hesitated for a moment. Despite Hermione being Harry's friend, she and Hermione had never been on the best of terms, at most passing acquaintances and academic rivals when it came to something that required creative thinking, one of the few things Hermione was bad at, but the girl sounded truly upset. Oh, well. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

The girl's head snapped up. She immediately looked down again, sniffling. "Go away. I don't want to talk to you, or anyone."

Trouble among the Golden Trio, then. Probably started by Weasley, as fairly usual. "What happened to split up the Golden Trio this time?"

Hermione looked up again. "What makes you so sure it has anything to do with Harry and Ron? It could just be me being emotional, or because someone called me a know-it-all."

Roisin raised an eyebrow. It was considered a slow day if someone _didn't_ call Hermione a know-it-all, but this would be the first time that it had caused any kind of reaction. "Granger, you are one of the strongest and most tenacious people I know. Most of Hogwarts considers you an insufferable know-it-all, but you've never let it bother you. As far as I know, the only thing that gets you worked up like this is something to do with your friends."

Hermione scowled, but apparently decided that the best way to make Roisin leave her alone would be to just tell her what was wrong. "You know my cat, Crookshanks?" Roisin nodded. "Well, Ron found a few cat hairs on his sheets, spots of blood and his stupid rat missing. Now he thinks that Crookshanks ate Scabbers and isn't speaking to me, and Harry is siding with him!"

Roisin just nodded again. It sounded like Hermione needed someone to rant to. Hogwarts was like a soap opera at times, and at least one in every House in every year was eventually dubbed the 'Sympathetic Ear', regardless of whether or not they had the time or inclination to listen to you.

Still, it was a good way to raise your standing in your own house, keep track of what was going on in other houses and see who was in a position to be taken advantage of. Cue sympathetic comment and nudge. "Jumping to conclusions, aren't they? I mean, you can't be the only person in Hogwarts or even Gryffindor with a cat, and what would a girl's cat be doing in the boy's dorms?"

Hermione's lips curled into what looked suspiciously like a furious snarl. "Precisely! Ron's rat is useless anyway, and he's always complaining about it! You'd think he'd be glad for a chance to get a new pet! Then Harry comes along and says that all the evidence points that way! I mean, I understand that it looks bad, but it would be nice if Harry could side with me over Ron once in a while."

Roisin sighed, and here she had thought that Harry would have learned not to take sides in other people's issues. Still, most of Hogwarts had witnessed that Hermione's cat had it out for Ron's rat. That was probably not what Hermione wanted to hear, however. "Last year all the evidence pointed to Harry as the Heir of Slytherin. I would think he'd learn not to jump to conclusions."

Hermione nodded furiously. "Yes! But will they remember that? Of course not, it might prove them wrong! And I signed up for more than the usual two extra classes, and the work just keeps piling up and it's just one thing on top of another and… and…"

Hermione burst into tears again. Roisin sat down next to her, placing a gentle arm around her shoulders. Maybe genuine sympathy was in order, after all, even if the two girls didn't get along. Crabbe had a nervous breakdown over mounting schoolwork about once a year, and being a shoulder to ride out the storm of tears on wasn't that unusual when you were around girls just entering puberty, who cried at the drop of a hat. Best to just make comforting noises and allow them to let it out.

Eventually, Hermione sat up again. "Sorry about that. I got your robes all wet."

Roisin shrugged and performed a drying charm. "It's all right. Are you sure that you don't need anything else?"

Hermione shook her head, pulling out a handkerchief and drying her eyes as she began to re-pack her enormous book-bag. "No, thank you. I need to get back to the Common Room, so goodbye."

Raising an eyebrow at the abrupt dismissal, Roisin found the book she had been looking for and headed for Madam Pince's desk in order to check it out, before making her way back to her own Common Room. Urk, bloody homework.

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_A/N: OK, this chapter is up and I'm working on the next one. Reviews and comments are very much appreciated and will cheer me up a lot. A moping Nat is a slow-writing Nat._

_Anyway, you know the drill: take five seconds to tell me what you think._

_Thanks, Nat._


	35. Quidditch, Parties and Attempted Murder

_Disclaimer: You mean I have to do this again? Oh, all right: I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summery: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

It was common knowledge that the Slytherin Trio of Draco, Greg and Vince were in desperate need of lessons in tact and discretion. Of Marcus Flint, however, Roisin had expected better. Still, most of Slytherin House had learned within a few months of the Trio's first year that Draco's plots tended to backfire spectacularly.

Therefore, whatever the Trio (currently aided by the Slytherin Quidditch Captain) was planning, and how or why it involved black cloaks, they didn't want to know and would do best to stay out of it.

Plausible Deniability was such a pleasant concept, after all, and Roisin had an Arithmancy Essay to finish if she was going to be dragged to the Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor Quidditch Match tomorrow. Personally, Roisin would have preferred a lay-in, but since the match determined who faced Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup, the entire house was threatened with detention if they didn't show up.

* * *

Breakfast before the match was interesting in several ways. Luna was being ostracized by her House (again), so Roisin had invited her to eat at the Slytherin table, where she was currently involved in a lively debate with another Second Year, Rolf Scamander. Roisin felt sorry for Hagrid when he had those two in Care of Magical Creatures next year.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially on the topic of evidence of Nargles, but everyone around them had lost track of the discussion at least half an hour ago.

_All_ conversation came to a very abrupt halt as the Gryffindor Quidditch Team walked in and everyone caught sight of Harry's Firebolt. A full ten seconds later, chatter broke out again, and Roisin quietly sighed as she watched Draco head over to the Gryffindor table, probably to see if it was a real Firebolt.

It was, and Roisin quietly mourned the loss of any chance of sensible conversation _not_ involving brooms or Quidditch at any point in the near future. Giving it up as a loss, she tuned back to Luna and Rolf, who were now discussing if bowtruckles guarded trees with Broomstick-wood, or just Wand-wood.

* * *

At least she could be thankful for improved weather conditions while sitting through the Quidditch match, as it turned out to be a clear, cool day, rather than the downpour of the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor match. As far as actual playing was concerned, however, Roisin preferred Hufflepuff.

The Chasers, Keeper and Beater were average, but the Ravenclaw Seeker's mode of operation seemed to be following the other Seeker around and blocking them at random intervals. It was an interesting and unpredictable tactic, but offered very little in the way of entertainment or discernable strategy.

Roisin really needed to start being more careful what she wished for!

She had been mentally begging for something to liven up the game and contemplating whether or not she should just go back to the Common Room, when there was a loud scream from the Ravenclaw Seeker.

Everyone, even the other Quidditch players, stopped what they were doing to see what she was pointing at. Roisin's breath caught in her throat; three tall, hooded Dementors stood in the middle of the pitch. The spectators instantly went into a panic, and Roisin nearly joined them, until she noticed the distinct lack of cold and horrific memories.

The reason for that was swiftly discovered when Harry shot a Patronus Charm at the three Dementors, and an enormous, silvery-white stag shot out of his wand, lowered its antlers, and charged. Roisin didn't have a clear view from her position in the stands, but she was fairly sure that Dementors didn't trip over their own robes and fall into a tangle of black cloth and struggling bodies.

Before Roisin could cast a vision charm to get a closer look, a tremendous cheer announced that someone had caught the snitch, and Roisin allowed herself to be swept up in the crowd as they flowed down to the pitch. Forcing a path away from where the Quidditch teams had landed, Roisin moved to where Professor McGonagall was facing down the 'Dementors'.

* * *

Roisin stalked through the Common Room in a towering fury, followed at a relatively safe distance by Goyle, Crabbe and Draco. "Come on, Roisin, it was just a joke!"

Roisin rounded on him, her eyes narrowed, causing all bystanders to scramble away as she practically hissed in fury. "A joke? After you've spent all of the school year thus far taunting my cousin about his reaction to Dementors, you think it's a joke to dress up as them, just to disrupt a Quidditch match? If that isn't one of the most infantile…"

She was cut off by Draco's indignation overcoming his common sense. "Infantile? Roisin, you're blowing this way out of proportion!"

That was the wrong thing to say, and resulted in the outraged girl drawing her wand in an eye blink. Draco hid behind Crabbe, who took one look at Roisin's face and quickly moved out of the line of fire. Giving up on trying to calm herself, Roisin exploded. "**Blowing it out of proportion! Blow **_**this**_** out of proportion, you irritating little ponce!**_ Punctum Maxima!"_

The hex she threw at him was a specially modified version of the stinging hex, with the victim being chased by numerous dots of light with the basic effect of being attacked by a swarm of bees. Ignoring the three boys' protests as they tried to reverse it, Roisin spun on her heel and swept out of the common room, making her way to Gryffindor tower. She needed to calm down before she hit her housemates with something worse, and she might as well congratulate Harry while she was at it.

* * *

Mary had joined her twin, Seamus, and several other first- and second-years, all of whom were well on their way to a sugar high by the time Roisin made it into the Gryffindor Common Room.

Sensibly avoiding that area, she fought her way over to where Harry was standing, giving him a congratulatory hug before being dragged off by Parvati and Lavender, who wanted details on the 'Dementor Stunt' that Roisin's housemates had pulled. Deciding that the rumour mill was as good a way to get back at them as any, Roisin told them everything she knew about it.

Roughly an hour into the party, Roisin had joined a slightly inebriated Katie Bell in 'People Watching'. Giggling as they watched a girl that Katie pointed out as 'Patricia Stimpson' trying to flirt with the Weasley Twins and constantly getting them mixed up, Roisin spotted Hermione at a side table, surrounded by books and oblivious to the chaos around her.

Thinking that Hermione probably didn't want to be disturbed, but really shouldn't be sitting out a party, Roisin spent several minutes trying to coax the bookworm away from her schoolwork, before finally throwing up her hands as Harry approached. Maybe he would have better luck.

It was a good thing that Professor Snape never actually checked that his Slytherins were all in their beds, as the Gryffindor Victory party went on well into the night. In fact, it didn't even slow down until one in the morning, when Roisin was forced to dive behind a large armchair to avoid being spotted by Professor McGonagall, who showed up and ordered them all to bed.

Not wanting to risk being caught out of bed, Roisin accepted Parvati's offer of using one of the spare beds in the Third-Year Girls Dorm, dragging Mary up with her. Casting an alarm spell to wake her up in time to sneak back to Slytherin before anyone was up and about, Roisin fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Roisin seldom had dreams, and tonight was no different, so the next thing she was aware of was falling off the bed with a crash as a loud and piercing scream echoed through the tower.

Hearing several other exclamations as the other girls in the room woke up; Roisin threw on someone's spare robe, grabbed her wand, and made a dash for the common room to see what the fuss was about.

She wasn't the only one, as she reached the Common Room, still littered with rubbish from the victory party, just as the Third-Year boys tumbled down their stairs, all looking panicked. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, Roisin tried to focus on Harry. "What in Merlin's sweet name…?"

Before they could answer, other Gryffindor students began poking their sleep-tussled heads out of various dorm rooms, demanding to know the same thing. "Who shouted?"

"What are you doing?"

The Third-Year boys ignored them, concentrating on Ron Weasley. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

Mary staggered down the stairs, followed by Parvati, Lavender and Hermione, and leaned against Roisin. Wrapping an arm around her younger cousin, Roisin stifled a yawn. "Wake the whole tower, why don't you. Saw who?"

Other students were coming down, now, in various states of wakefulness. "What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed."

The Weasley Twins bounced down the stairs, un-naturally awake for the time of night. "Excellent, are we carrying on?"

They were followed by their older brother, who was hurriedly pinning his Head Boy badge onto his pajamas as he spoke. "Everyone back upstairs!"

Thankfully, this prompted an actual answer, albeit in a very faint tone. "Perce – Sirius Black! In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up."

Everyone froze and a heavy silence dropped. Percy looked startled and a little pale. "Nonsense! You had too much to eat, Ron – had a nightmare - ,"

"I'm telling you – "

"Now, really, enough is enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back, and Roisin hastily ducked behind Parvati, pulling Mary with her. The professor slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the Common Room and stared furiously around. "I'm delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you."

The Head Boy looked more upset about being called into question than he did about the possible attack on his sibling. "I certainly did not authorize this, Professor! My brother Ron here had a nightmare, and –"

He was interrupted by the brother in question. "IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall looked startled and stared at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he have gotten through the portrait?"

Ron was clearly nearing Hysteria as he pointed a shaking finger toward the portrait of Sir Cadogan. "Ask him! Ask him if he saw someone!"

Still glaring suspiciously, Professor McGonagall opened the portrait again and went outside. Seamus had joined his twin, and Roisin wrapped her arms tighter around them both as everyone held their breath and waited.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just allow a man entrance to Gryffindor Tower?"

The mildly psychotic knight sounded almost triumphant. "Certainly, dear lady!"

There was a stunned silence, both in and outside the Common Room. Professor McGonagall looked no less shocked. "You – you did? But – but the password!"

Sir Cadogan still sounded cheerful, as though he hadn't just let a murderous lunatic into a tower full of mostly defenseless children. "He had them! He had the whole week's, my lady. Read them off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall's face was as white as a marble statue, and nearly as cold with fury as she re-entered the room. "Which person – which abysmally _foolish_ person – wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

For a moment, Roisin wasn't sure if anyone would answer. Self-Preservation suggested remaining silent, but Gryffindors were not known for self-preservation, and not knowing who was responsible – and making sure that they didn't do it again – could turn out to be even worse for communal safety. There was a long silence, finally broken by a high-pitched squeak as Neville Longbottom slowly raised a trembling hand into the air.

Unseen – not that anyone would be paying attention anyway – at the back of the room, Roisin closed her eyes. Even without the attempted mass-murder, this was not going to be at all pretty.

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_A/N: Yes, yes, yes, I know that it's been far too long since I last updated this. Unfortunately, my computer crashed, taking all of my word documents with it. That meant that I had to re-write almost everything, including my resume, cover letter, Original Writing, Miscellaneous Crap,__ and__ at least 186 fan fiction documents, not to mention several half-written ones.  
__So re-writing and backing up my files, along with several other stories and writers-block, is responsible for the four-month delay._

_Incidentally, I have my first serious Harry Potter crossover going on, so if anyone would like to tell me how it's going, that would be much appreciated._

_As always, Reviews are inspiring, Constructive Criticism is welcome and Flames are laughed at. Take five seconds (or more, if you like) to tell me what you think._

_Thanks, Nat._


	36. Various Happenings and Quidditch Finals

_Disclaimer: See previous chapters._

_Summary: Likewise_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

In the wake of the attack on the Gryffindor Boy's dorms, and the ensuring chaos, Roisin and Mary had managed to use several secret passages in order to get back to the Slytherin Dungeons. Like the Gryffindors, however, they didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

Roisin was not as worried about being attacked again (the Slytherin Common Room had a two-foot-thick wall guarding the entrance, as opposed to an unhinged painting), so much as Desdemona had set an alert for her return, dragged the details out of her, then woken the other two and invaded the Boy's Dorm to tell them what had taken place, which resulted in another round of questions.

The rumour mill was working overtime, and by only a few hours after breakfast, everyone knew what was going on, and security was tighter than ever. The Fat Lady had been restored, and now had backup in the form of a round dozen security trolls. Professor Flitwick could be seen charming the doors to recognize a large photo of Sirius Black, while Filch was boarding up everything from the Ground-Floor windows to the smallest mouse-hole.

Ron Weasley had become an instant celebrity (much to Harry's relief, as it took the focus off of him), and was clearly enjoying the attention. While he was still shaken by the event, and jumped slightly at sudden noises, that didn't stop him from telling and re-telling the story in great detail to anyone who would ask or listen.

As one of the few Slytherins on speaking terms with the Gryffindors, Roisin had been volunteered to get the finer details out of him, and was now standing with a group of second-years as Ron told the story for what had to be the hundredth time. Personally, Roisin wondered that he hadn't become sick of reciting the whole thing by now.

"…I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dreams, you know? But then there was this draught… I woke up, and the hangings on one side of my bed had been pulled down, ripped to shreds… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife. It must have been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scarpered."

Credit where it was due, Roisin had to admit that Ron made a good storyteller. The second-years departed, whispering to each other (probably forming yet another conspiracy theory) and Ron turned to Harry, who had been standing next to Roisin. "Why, though? Why did he scarper?"

Roisin shrugged. "Most of Gryffindor Tower came running when you screamed, and McGonagall came rushing in, like, two minutes later. If he stuck around to kill you, he would have had to fight his way back out, and a knife isn't much use against fifty-plus wands, even if they are in the hands of students."

Harry agreed. "He must have known he'd have a job getting back out, once you screamed and woke everybody up. He'd have had to fight the whole house to get back out again – and then he'd have met the teachers…"

Ron might have been popular, but Neville Longbottom was in total disgrace. Everyone was walking on eggshells around Professor McGonagall, who was still livid, even after giving Neville detention, banning him from all future Hogsmeade visits, and forbidding anyone to give him the password to Gryffindor Tower. Given that this meant that Neville was forced to wait outside every night while the trolls leered at him, and the Howler that arrived from his Grandmother at breakfast two days later, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the entire family, Roisin was almost sympathetic.

Then again, Neville's mistakes had resulted in letting a mass-murderer get into the castle, so it was a bit hard to really feel sorry for him.

* * *

Two days after the Howler, Roisin was trying to find a brief reprieve from the excess paranoia, and monopolized Harry for a walk during a rare sunny day, reasoning that it was too nice a day to be sitting inside, no matted how fascination it might be to hear the latest how-Black-got-in theory or Ron's latest re-telling of the tale.

After a few minutes enjoying the sunshine, Roisin glanced at her cousin. "You seem unusually pensive. Is something wrong?"

Harry sighed. "I just came back from visiting Hagrid. You know how that Hippogriff is supposed to be executed for attacking a student? Hagrid was telling us about how Hermione was helping him set up a defense for it."

Roisin was of two minds about that. Draco should have listened when Hagrid was explaining the Do's and Don'ts of Hippogriffs, but she didn't think that such animals were a good idea for a first lesson, especially as they were rated XXXX on the danger scale. "Interesting, but not really enough to put you in this kind of a mood. What else?"

Harry gave her a wry look and a small smile. "Hagrid mentioned that Hermione had been coming down to talk with him a lot, and that she had seemed very lonely since Christmas. He said that Ron and I should have valued our friend more than a rat or a broomstick."

That would do it. Harry was intensely loyal to those he considered friends, and the conversation with Hagrid must have fallen into the category of Guilt-Trips. "I don't think it's quite so much valuing friendship as it is the friendship itself. Hermione may have _meant_ well, but she still shouldn't have gone behind your back like she did, or at least apologized for her actions. I'm guessing that you would have taken it for a test-flight as soon as possible, with Madam Hooch, and that would have easily shown if the thing was cursed or not."

Harry sat down on one of the small benches that lay scattered around the courtyard. "Yeah. I know that Hermione was just trying to be helpful, but I was upset that she didn't give me a chance to come up with something before she went and had it confiscated. I don't want to choose in the situation with Scabbers, but Hermione was complaining about Ron jumping to conclusions and demanded to know what I thought, then jumped up and ran off before I could say anything past that things did look that way."

Roisin gave her cousin an amused look and a raised eyebrow. Harry shot her a grin in response. "Despite popular opinion, I have learned my lessons about how just because the evidence points to something, doesn't make it true. Crookshanks might have eaten Scabbers, but so could Mrs. Norris. Besides, Scabbers was in the Weasley family for years. Ron may have complained about him, but he does have reason to be upset. Hermione could at least show some sympathy, rather than only defending her cat."

Roisin might have respected Hermione, but she did feel that Harry had the better argument. There was no solid evidence that Crookshanks _had_ eaten the rat, but nor was there solid evidence that he _hadn't_. Roisin was about to reply when she spotted Desdemona bouncing down the hall in search of her.

Desdemona didn't care about House Barriers as far as Family ties went, and never commented on her friendship with Harry, but she was like an unstoppable force when she wanted something, and it was far better to just go with it, in most cases. Roisin gave Harry an apologetic smile. "Looks like I'm about to be dragged off. I'll see you later, but good luck sorting things out."

Harry was visibly amused at her plight when Desdemona started to pull her away. "Thanks Roisin. I'll see you later."

* * *

That Saturday was a Hogsmeade Weekend, but Roisin had elected not to go, partially in favour of going over the Animagus project again. She was also staying behind partially because Blaise was in the hospital wing with a cold, partially because Desdemona was loose while on a sugar-high, and largely because the outside conditions could only be described as 'Slush'.

She was taking advantage of the deserted Common Room to practice the charm for 'revealing the animal within' when Draco and his sidekicks burst in at a dead run, pale and shaking. Picking herself up from where Vince's bulk had knocked her flying, Roisin cast a worried look at a nearby potted plant (a crab-apple bonsai that was suddenly scurrying about on six roots) and glared at her classmates. "Would one of you care to explain what that was about?"

The trio must have been more shaken than they seemed, as they didn't even wince at Roisin's Death Glare, which had once been likened to that of a Basilisk, (once and never again, as Roisin had not appreciated the reminder of being petrified.) as they tried to relay a very disjointed version of events. "Hogsmeade… head floating in mid-air… sticks and mud flying without magic or anyone throwing them…"

Needless to say, Roisin took this with a grain of salt. The Wizarding World may have been fantastic, but there were still limits. "Are you sure you didn't just get the wrong drink at the Three Broomsticks? Pull yourselves together and go annoy Professor Snape about it."

Draco looked indignant. "Don't you even care about my trauma? You should be finding a way to fix this!"

His indignation had calmed him down enough that Roisin's Death Glare had more effect this time. Draco instantly hid behind Greg as Roisin hissed at him. "I'm busy, and don't you dare talk to me as though I'm some kind of servant, Draco. Go find someone else to whine to."

It was rare that a Slytherin spoke back to Draco (The other Houses, Gryffindors in particular, did it all the time), but Roisin had never been the average Slytherin. Furthermore, her exposure to the Wizarding world was limited to Hogwarts and the O'Conner Keep in Ireland, so she was less intimidated by Lucius Malfoy's wealth and influence than most. Recovering from the shock of having the relatively quiet girl snap at him, Draco tried to protest again. "But I saw your cousin's head floating in mid-air…"

Roisin rolled her eyes, picking up her wand and returning to the table that held her books. Draco really was impossible at times. "Have Daddy buy you a therapist, if you're that traumatized, and see if they can't do something about your attitude while they're at it. I won't say it again: Go. Tell. Someone. Else."

Draco, Greg and Vince quickly left, presumably to find Professor Snape. Roisin shook her head. Seamus had been visiting Mary in the Common Room until five minutes before the trio had entered, when they had declared Roisin 'boring' and left for Gryffindor Tower, and Harry had been unable to get his permission form signed. The waitress at the Three Broomsticks had probably just given them ButterRum, very similar to Butterbeer in both name and appearance, by mistake.

Shaking her head, Roisin went back to the Animagus charms, looking up the wand motions for the Charm to link the animal spirit to the human form.

* * *

Professor Hagrid appeared very upset during the next Third-Year Care of Magical Creatures class. Roisin had discovered the cause by questioning Mary, who asked Seamus, who heard from Lavender Brown, who shared a dorm with Hermione, who had been helping Hagrid prepare the defence for the Hippogriff who had attacked Draco.

Apparently, the defence for the trial and later appeal had not been a success, and the Hippogriff, Buckbeak, was scheduled for execution right after exams. Roisin was sympathetic to the teacher's distress, but there was nothing she could do about it. Seeing Draco making a beeline for the newly-reunited Gryffindor trio, Roisin checked her watch and picked up her pace.

Draco had been in a bad mood ever since he had returned from telling Professor Snape about the Hogsmeade incident and been pinched by the crab/bonsai crab-apple, which meant that hewould be looking for someone to takeit out on, and the Care of Magical Creatures field was a significant distance from the Charms Classroom.

* * *

The despondent mood caused by the gloomy weather was quickly dispersed upon the discovery that they were covering Cheering Charms. Most of the first few attempts resulted in little more than a slight giggle, but they soon picked it up.

No one was quite sure how well Cheering Charms worked on Desdemona, as it took very little to make the girl laugh, so the next several tries didn't count. Four tries later, when Theo's attempt managed to crack Roisin's usual reserve and make her dissolve into peals of laughter, they counted it a success.

Safely recovering while her friends had a small debate over who would be stuck with Greg and Vince, Roisin took a glance around and noticed Hermione's absence, illustrated by Theo being the first one to cast a proper charm. She shrugged it off, trying to imagine a stormy, thoroughly miserable day as a method to calm down.

It worked, and Roisin hopped up to partner with Pansy. The blonde girl had been brushing up on her 'ladylike' mannerisms lately, so Roisin's goal was to make Pansy burst into Unladylike cackles.

* * *

In all fairness, Roisin should have expected it.

The third years had just learned about Cheering Charms that morning, and were convinced that the charm worked on anyone. Still feeling a bit giddy, the forty-five minutes of lunch was not enough time for them to think better of their course of action, and at least five people cast a Cheering Charm at Professor Snape the instant he walked through the door.

Either Professor Snape had some kind of natural resistance (not out of the realm of possibility) or he had been of the receiving end of enough Cheering Charms to build up immunity to them (also not out of the realm of possibility). Whatever the reason, it didn't work.

Ducking under her desk, Roisin just managed to avoid a stray charm, but at least it gave her an excuse for her uncontrollable giggling when the stern Potions Master started handing out Detentions.

* * *

Plans for brewing the Animagus potion over the Easter Holidays were put on hold, as the Third Years were loaded down with an unprecedented amount of homework and short-term project, all due in the first day back. It was enough to make Roisin wonder if they even had an Easter Break that year, and the Teachers hadn't simply been merciful enough to not drag them out of the Common Room or Library for a week.

The day before they returned to classes, Greg had been foolish enough to ask when the Easter Holidays started. Immersed in a particularly difficult Arithmancy Essay, Roisin could barely spare the energy to glare at him. Millicent, not quite so engrossed in a Transfiguration Assignment, threw a crumpled up piece of parchment at him. Theo looked up from researching the uses of Poinsettia long enough to throw a hex at him.

In all fairness, Draco had it the worst. Slytherin were facing Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup, and Wood and Flint were tied in the contest of Who Could Be The Most Fanatical, dragging their players onto the pitch for hours every day, regardless of the weather or alternate obligations.

Greg, Vince, Roisin and Pansy had formed a habit of taking dinner out to the Slytherin Team on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, when they had the pitch for the afternoon, and breakfast on the other four days, where they practiced from 5 a.m. until noon, when the Gryffindor Team arrived to kick them off and take over the pitch.

Off the pitch, tension between the two houses was worse than ever. The Quidditch Teams themselves had the worst time of it, barely able to leave the Common Room without someone trying to Hex or trip them, with their House-Mates surrounding them like a sort of bodyguard, but things didn't stop there.

Scuffles and mini-duels seemed to break out every five minutes whenever different houses were within cursing distance of each other, finally escalating to the point where a Gryffindor Fourth-Year and a Slytherin Sixth-Year wound up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

At that point, Professors Snape and McGonagall intervened, threatening to cancel the match all together if the hostilities continued. Hostilities died down, but only to the point where the two Houses only tried to trip or 'bump into' each other when teachers were absent. Even Seamus and Mary were sniping at each other.

It was therefore unsurprising, though still unpleasant, when Flint marched into the Common Room the day before the Quidditch Final and informed them that the entire House would be attending the match, whether they liked it or not. Given that Bole and Derrick were flanking him and holding beater bats, not even the worst of the non-Quidditch-enthused dared to protest.

* * *

The day of the match dawned crisp and clear. Slytherin House, all one hundred and ninety-two of them (excluding the Quidditch team themselves) had been forced at not-quite-wand-point into all the green clothing they owned. Even Professor Snape had foregone his usual black robes in favor of Forest-green.

According to Blaise, who had been woken up at by Draco at four in the morning and was on the verge of dozing off in his porridge, it had taken a force-fed mild sedative to make him sleep at all. Roisin changed the milk jug into a pillow and nodded sympathetically as she tried to force Draco, who was paler than usual, to eat something before he collapsed.

* * *

The Quidditch stands were a sight in themselves, even with the actual teams still in their locker rooms. Three quarters of the school were dressed in red and gold, waving flags and banners promoting Gryffindor. The Slytherin stands were a solid mass of green, with Professor Snape abandoning the Staff Section to sit with his house.

The anticipation was so high that no one dared to speak above a whisper, and it seemed as though they had been sitting there for hours. Then the Quidditch Teams flew onto the pitch, and the stands exploded with enough noise to be conceivably mistaken as a bomb going off.

After a brief handshake, which seemed more an attempt by Wood and Flint to break each others fingers, Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air, and the players took off.

Roisin generally tuned out the student commentary, largely because Lee Jordan was very biased in favor of Gryffindor, and it was either tune him out or hex him, and focused on what the players were doing.

The Quaffle had been instantly taken by Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor, and then intercepted by Warrington of Slytherin, who was hit by a bludger and dropped the Quaffle, which was caught by Angelina Johnson. The Gryffindor chaser dodged Montague and a bludger to fake out Bletchley and score the first goal of the match.

She was doing a victory lap of the pitch when Flint slammed into her in what he claimed was an accident. Less than a minute later, one of the Weasley twins threw their beater bat at Flint's head in response. In the stands, Roisin rolled her eyes and exchanged a long look with Millicent as Madam Hooch shouted at the two boys and awarded both teams a penalty. It looked like it was going to be one of _those_ games, again.

Alicia Spinnet took the penalty and managed to score, while Wood pulled off an impressive save, blocking Flint's shot. The game resumed, with neither team scoring until Montague grabbed Katie's head instead of the Quaffle, resulting in another penalty and another ten points to Gryffindor.

Scanning the pitch for Harry, Roisin saw him suddenly accelerate toward the Slytherin Goalposts, with Draco swiftly following. Given that Gryffindor would have to win by over two hundred points (Draco had gone over that three times when he had been giving himself a pep-talk the previous night) and Gryffindor only had thirty points, Roisin decided that it was probably a feint.

Whether it was a feint or not was quickly rendered moot as Bole and Derrick instantly closed in on Harry, bludgers narrowly missing the Gryffindor's head. The move would have worked to take Harry out of the game, had he not pushed the firebolt up at its full speed at the last second, causing the Slytherin Beaters to collide with a nasty-sounding crunch.

Angelina took the Quaffle again, but Flint pulled off a surprisingly clean steal, and knocked it out of her arms. With the other Gryffindor players badly out of position, he had a nearly unchallenged flight to the goals, where Oliver Wood just barely missed a save, scoring Slytherin's first goal of the match.

It was turning into the dirtiest match Roisin had ever seen (which wasn't that many, but the sentiment remained). The Slytherin team was resorting to any means to grab the Quaffle, with the Gryffindor team responding in equal violence.

Bole hit one of the chasers with his bat and tried to claim that she was a bludger. A Weasley twin elbowed him in the face in retaliation. Katie scored again, and the Slytherin beaters took advantage of the Weasley Twins' absence (they were guarding Katie from potential retaliation) to hit both bludgers at Wood, nearly knocking him off his broom.

Gryffindor scored twice more, putting them sixty points in the lead. Twenty seconds later, Harry went rocketed upward toward a glimmer of gold, only to be stopped as Draco grabbed onto the Firebolt's tail, slowing Harry down enough that the snitch had time to disappear.

Without enough room to throw up her hands in disgust and despair, Roisin settled for rolling her eyes yet again and sitting back, hoping that the match would be over before someone required an extensive stay in the hospital wing.

Slytherin had scored once more; bringing the score to Seventy-Twenty, Gryffindor, and Angelina was racing for the Slytherin goals, every Slytherin except Draco racing to stop her. Harry, who had been marking Draco so closely that they kept bumping into each other, shot toward the blockade a second before Draco went into a steep dive.

The Slytherin line scattered, and several Fifth-Year Slytherins dove out of the way as Harry nearly flew into the stands, before turning sharply at an anguished yell from Wood. Seeing Draco diving for the snitch, Harry opened the Firebolt to its full power, closing the vast distance between the two seekers.

At first, it seemed like he would never make it, and that Slytherin would take the cup again, but the Firebolt slowly closed the distance, bringing Harry neck-to-neck with Draco. The crowd had gone utterly silent, and Roisin was probably to only one to notice Theo turning blue from Desdemona's hold on him.

The two seekers were only meters from hitting the pitch when Harry threw himself forward, nearly out-flying his broom as he knocked Draco's arm out of the way and pulled back up, soaring into the air with one arm raised above his head. Seconds later, the rest of the Gryffindor team collided with him, sinking down to the pitch in a tangle of cheering, sobbing bodies.

Listening to the other three Houses scream with joy, her own House's yells of disbelief and dismay, and the cheering on the pitch itself, Roisin sighed in disappointment and started to make her way back to the castle. It promised to be a night filled with furious rants and Roisin braced herself to be counted among the many not-entirely-willing sympathetic ears.

Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch matches always were.

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* * *

_A/N: Another chapter is up! *Cheers*. This one is dedicated to 'Lazy', for their very helpful and constructive review on the last chapter._

_As always, Constructive Criticism is very much appreciated, while flames are laughed at and used to toast marshmallows._

_Thanks, Nat._


	37. Exams and Excursions

_Disclaimer: Must we go over this again? I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

**

* * *

**

Chapter Thirteen

The weather had noticeably perked up after the Quidditch Final, with blue skies and warm summer winds. A pity that no-one was in any position to enjoy it.

Exams were swiftly approaching, which meant that everyone was too busy studying to enjoy the splendid weather. Roisin was swiftly discovering a large benefit to living in the dungeons; with the exception of her Dorm Room (which was built into the cliff and had a view overlooking the lake) there were no windows to provide temptation of just sitting in the sunshine.

As it was, the only time they saw the outside of their Common Room, classrooms and the Library was at meals, when they sometimes ate outside for the allotted half-hour.

Anyone Fourth-Year and below quickly learned that if you needed help, you went to a teacher or a Sixth-Year, as even talking to a student who was taking their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s was just asking to be hexed. Even Desdemona had lost her usual exuberance; too busy studying to be hyper.

Everyone else had gotten off lightly, only studying until their brains hurt. Greg and Vince were on the verge of complete nervous breakdowns, while Draco was threatening to hex people, Blaise had placed an anti-borrowing jinx on every one of his books and parchment supply, and Pansy frequently burst into tears. Roisin, while still in a state of mild panic, was faring better than most, as she had copied Hermione's study timetable when they had run into each other in the library, and was making a tidy profit from the Fifth- and Seventh-Years by selling the outlines for two galleons each.

* * *

The first exam was Transfiguration, where they had to turn a teapot into a tortoise. Roisin's tortoise was several shades paler than a natural tortoise should be, while Theo had been unable to stop his tortoise from emitting a high-pitched whistle whenever it moved. Vince's tortoise had to be handled carefully unless you wanted burnt fingers.

No one was quite sure how that had happened. Everyone left the classroom exhausted and muttering nervously about this or that fault in their practical exam. Roisin grabbed Millicent's wand arm to stop her from cursing Hermione, who was fretting that her tortoise looked more like a turtle.

After a hasty lunch and even hastier last-second studying, it was straight back upstairs for the charms exam. Cheering Charms were indeed part of the practical, and Roisin believed that she did well enough, although she wasn't sure if she would be marked down for Millicent ending up in a state of europhic bliss.

Still, it was better than Greg's, who had Blaise turning blue from uncontrollable laughter. Or Vince, for that matter, whose Cheering Charm backfired spectacularly. Rather than cheering his partner up, Crabbe's botched spell caused Draco to instantly start wailing in despair, and the Malfoy heir had to be tackled by Theo when he started to turn his wand on himself.

Straight after an early, 5:00 dinner, most of the First Years went back to their respective Common Rooms to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy. Theo, Millicent, Blaise and Roisin headed off to their Arithmancy Exam, along with a few of the others who were taking that elective.

They had been told to gather in the Great Hall, and then individually set off at five-minute intervals. This made no sense, until they figured out that the first part of the exam was to find the classroom where the examination would be held. Thankfully, Roisin only took a minute to recall their first lesson, and didn't go straight to their classroom.

'Arithmancy lesson' translated to '_Character Number: 7, Heart Number: 4, Social Number: 3_'. The numbers represented first the room, then the corridor, then the floor. 'Arithmancy Exam' translated to '_Character Number: 2, Heart Number: 8, Social Number: 3_'. Since there were only four corridors per floor, the directions required further calculation.

There were six floors (towers not included), so Roisin moved each number up a position, going to the eighth room in the third corridor on the second floor. Once the students reached the Exam Room, (Blaise and Hermione took the longest, despite setting off third and seventh) they had to calculate a series of equations, and then use them to divine the potential results of a specific activity, with each student being given a different subject.

* * *

The first exam of the next day, Care of Magical Creatures, was easy, consisting of a short multiple choice test, then caring for a flobberworm. To pass, the flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of the hour. If she never saw a flobberworm again, Roisin decided, it would be far too soon.

Potions was a lot harder, as someone had decided to lull the students into a false sense of security with the Care of Magical Creatures Exam, only to be informed that they would be brewing a Confusing Concoction. This was sort of ironic; a confusion potion when you needed to work almost from pure memory.

Roisin took great care to choose a station far away from Neville, Vince or Greg. That proved a wise choice, as she could concentrate more on what she was meant to be doing, rather than keeping a nervous eye on which of her neighbours would blow something up first. (Neville, while Roisin was adding her carefully diced mouse spleen.)

The Astronomy Exam could only be considered blatant torture, as it took place at midnight. Already exhausted from all the studying and the previous exams, the Third Years were barely retaining enough consciousness to _see_ their star-charts, much less label them.

Being instructed to predict the movement of the celestial bodies for the next month was just cruel and unusual punishment when it was taking all of your focus just to stay upright and awake.

* * *

Roisin was enthusiastically supported in her desire to hunt down and hex whoever placed History of Magic as first thing Wednesday morning. Having to take the most boring and sleep-provoking exam after less than five hours of rest was an act of either deliberate cruelty or just blind stupidity.

Practically sleep-walking from the astronomy tower to the dungeons, then getting ready for bed took nearly an hour, and if there was any cold and reviving water left in the showers on Wednesday morning (doubtful, as Pansy had to cast '_Aqumenti_', a less powerful version of '_Augmenti_' at herself to rinse her hair properly) Roisin would be very surprised.

Herbology took place under the mid-day sun, where they had to trim, re-pot and harvest a variety of plants. Greg was sent to the Hospital Wing to fetch sunburn cream from Madam Pomfrey as soon as the Exam let out, while the other Slytherins limped back to their Common Room.

Stiff and cramped from three hours spent crouching in the dirt; the Third-Year girls solved this problem by taking turns in giving massages, working out the aches to the point where they no longer cracked joints when they tried to move.

A Fourth-Year boy was hexed for suggestively asking Roisin to give _him _a massage, and the Third-Years settled down, hoping to actually concentrate on studying for Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes the next day.

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts was more of an obstacle course than anything, and certainly the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken.

It took place outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, and make their way through a series of pot-holes that were covered with Red Caps. After that, they had to ignore the Hinkypunk that was trying to lead them astray as they squelched across a patch of marsh, then climb into a magically expanded old trunk and do battle with a boggart.

Roisin dodged the Grindylow, but faltered at the Red Caps, as her interest in the Bible leaned more toward the stories in the Old Testament, rather than any of the preaching by Jesus and various others, not to mention that she hadn't attended Church since she was nine.

She finally emerged from the pot-hole loudly commenting that the first person who taunted her about being 'saved' by the Lord's Prayer was going to get hurt. A useful _point-me_ spell guided her past the Hinkypunk, and her 'greatest fear' hadn't changed, so the Boggart only gave her a few moments pause before she defeated it.

Giggling as she watched Greg catch the Red Cap off guard with a solid punch, then run as fast as possible to the marsh while it spouted profanities in interesting combinations, Roisin headed off to lunch and some extra revision before her Ancient Runes Exam.

The Ancient Rune exam was to translate several sets of runes, and then an essay on the dangers of mis-translation, followed by another discussing the benefits and drawbacks of a personalized rune-set, as opposed to a set for common use.

* * *

Post-Exam/Yay-We-Survived-Another-Year parties were all well and good, and quite frankly a relief from seemingly endless studying, but Roisin really wished that some of her housemates would exercise a bit of caution.

She didn't begrudge the Seventh-Years a few slightly alcoholic beverages, like Butterbeer, the occasional Daiquiri, or even a Long Island Iced Tea, but she drew the line at downing an entire bottle of Firewhisky. Especially when they nearly flattened a (mostly) innocent First-Year because they were too intoxicated to walk straight.

Roisin was even more annoyed that she was the one who had to escort said First-Year to the Hospital wing and come up with a plausible excuse for a highly sceptical Madam Pomfrey. Then again, when you had been working at Hogwarts as long as the Hospital Matron and certain kinds of injuries always happened at a particular point in the year, you probably drew your own conclusions.

Now Roisin's only problem was to get back to the Dungeons in the one minute left before curfew. That problem was (sort of) solved when she turned a corner and ran straight into Professor Snape, who nearly dropped the goblet he was carrying and fixed her with a stern look. "What are you doing out of your Common Room past curfew, Miss O'Conner?"

Actually, screw killing the Seventh-Year, this would work just as well. "I was escorting a First-Year to the Hospital Wing, sir. Some of the older students spiked the party drinks and forgot to point out which drinks were straight alcohol."

The statement was technically true, if not the exact events, and would cost less points than telling the Professor that several of the oldest students were flat-out plastered and had managed to fall over a younger student, resulting in a hospital visit, and that Roisin had been volunteered to escort them as the culprit could barely stand, much less walk anywhere.

Professor Snape sighed in exasperation; clearly the exams had been getting to him too, as the Potions Master almost never tolerated so much as critical remarks toward his house. "Very well. I am required to drop this off with Professor Lupin, but will be returning to the dungeons afterward. You may accompany me. It would not do to lose points this close to the end of term."

That was a relief; Roisin's biggest worry had been getting caught by various authority figures before she made it back to the Common Room. If she was with Professor Snape, then she had an excuse and was less likely to be stuck with detention. Quickening her pace in order to keep up with Professor Snape's long strides and cursing her decision to wear modest heels, Roisin follower her Head of House to the Defence office.

* * *

There was no answer when Professor Snape knocked, so after a lengthily pause, he turned the doorknob and entered anyway. The office was deserted and the desk bare, except for a single piece of parchment that seemed to be covered with labelled dots moving all over the place.

Professor Snape placed the goblet on the desk, giving the parchment a curiousy glance, before freezing and then let loose a terrific swearword as he ran out the door again. Roisin blinked in surprise (Professor Snape never cursed unless it involved the Potions lab being blown up or an elaborate prank by the Weasley Twins) but quickly shook herself out of it as she grabbed the goblet and followed her teacher.

* * *

Large amounts of trouble directly before or after end-of-year exams were starting to become a habit around here.

Following Professor Snape led Roisin out of the castle, past Hagrid's cabin, and down to the Whomping Willow, which only increased Roisin's bad feeling, and the suspicion that Harry was somehow involved. Draco's gloating had revealed that the Hippogriff was due to be executed, and Roisin couldn't see her cousin leaving Hagrid on his own for such a thing.

Roisin remained quiet as Professor Snape picked something silvery up off the ground, then poked a knot on the Whomping Willow with a long stick. Astonishingly enough, the tree froze, and Professor Snape slipped down into a hollow between two large roots. Not wanting to be around when the Willow unfroze, Roisin hurriedly followed him.

Dropping between the roots while holding a full goblet was not easy, and Roisin made it just in time, finding herself in what seemed to be some kind of secret passageway just as the Whomping Willow unfroze and started flailing about. There was no visible sign of Professor Snape, and Roisin had no intention of going back up to the violent tree, so she channelled her 'Inner Gryffindor' and set off down the passage

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A/N: Yes, it is a very short chapter. I had planned to combine this chapter and the next, but I try to keep my chapters within a certain length, and it was just starting to get too long, so I separated it. The other half/next chapter will be up in a day or two.

_I know that Hermione's Exam Timetable has Transfiguration and Arithmancy, then Charms and Ancient Runes at the same time, but I just don't see that as possible, as the other students taking those electives wouldn't have access to a time-turner. Presuming that each Exam is three hours, with a one hour break in between, I will be spacing the other electives out over other days.  
__Also, I have someone borrowing my copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, so I have gone with the traditional folklore concerning Red Caps. Sorry.  
__As always, reviews are very much appreciated, Constructive Criticism rocks my world, and flames are laughed at. 'Net-speak' is a pet peeve, and more confusing than simplifying. As such, it will earn a snarky response. If you know how to read and write, then you should know how to form a complete word or sentence._

_Thanks, Nat_


	38. Working Things Out

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Must we go over this every time?_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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Chapter Fourteen

Roisin wasn't sure precisely where she had expected the passage to lead to, but the Shrieking Shack certainly wasn't it. Looking around, hoping that the malevolent spirits that were meant to inhabit the place didn't take offence to her being her, Roisin's attention was drawn by the noise of several voices, three of which sounded suspiciously like a certain Gryffindor Trio, shouting a Disarming Charm, and a loud crash.

If there was something going on that required fighting of some kind, then Roisin had no intention of being alone when it found her. She ran up the stairs to what was clearly the bedroom, burst through the door, narrowly missed tripping over her Head of House, whose collision with the wall had obviously been the source of the crash, and looked around in shock.

Ron was sitting on a bed, his leg clearly broken; Hermione was whimpering about having attacked a teacher as she stared in shock at Professor Snape's unconscious body; and Harry was glaring suspiciously at Sirius Black as the convict freed Professor Lupin, who had been gagged and bound with conjured ropes.

Making sure that the shell-shocked Hermione was solidly between her and Black, Roisin cleared her throat and hoped that no-one tried to blast her into the wall, meekly holding up the goblet. "Um, I'm not sure what this is, but Professor Snape seemed to think that Professor Lupin needed to drink it in the immediate future. Please don't curse me."

Black's wand instantly came to bear on her just as Hermione realized that she was being used as a human shield, squeaked, and tried to get out of the way. Roisin refused to be in the direct line of fire, and ducked behind Harry, who appealed to Professor Lupin. "No, it's all right: Roisin's my cousin!"

Black lowered his wand (Roisin's free hand was in her pocket, firmly grasping the familiar redwood of her own wand) and Professor Lupin took the goblet, pulling a face at the taste. "Thank you."

Roisin wasn't quite sure who he was addressing, but Harry didn't drop his suspicious glare. Roisin was impressed; Harry rarely showed anything conductive to self preservation, so even suspicion was a large step forward. "I'm still not saying that I believe you."

Believe him? This was so confusing. Roisin interrupted again, starting to wish she had just stayed in the castle, "For those of us who have just walked in, could someone tell me what the hell is going on here? Also, why is my House Head lying unconscious? He thankfully isn't a Gryffindor, but he also isn't the sort to faint when confronted with something dangerous."

Hermione sighed and gave her the Cliff-Notes version. "Professor Lupin is a were-wolf; Black is an Animagus and claims that he didn't kill anyone, and that Ron's rat is another Animagus named Peter Pettigrew, who was the real traitor."

Roisin sighed; if it didn't mean going through her Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes Exams all over again, she would be perfectly content to go back to her dorm and pretend that this day never happened. "Right. So, continue with the explanation."

Black blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "Well, it's time we showed you some proof. You, boy – give me Peter."

Ron clutched his rat closer to his chest, trying to protest that his pet was a normal rat, and how would Black know him from any other rat in the world. Professor Lupin conceded the point and everyone looked to Black for an explanation. Black pulled out a piece of newspaper, with a photo of the Weasley family. "Fudge. When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page… on the boy's shoulder… I knew it was him… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said that he would be going back to Hogwarts, where Harry was."

That was a plausible explanation, but Roisin didn't see how the fact that Scabbers was missing a toe was some great revelation and confirmation of identity. Neither did Ron and Harry's expression indicated that the two men had better come up with something better than that. Black elaborated. "Just before he transformed, when I cornered him, he yelled for everyone to hear that I betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew up the street with his wand behind his back, transformed – and sped down into the sewers with the other rats."

Roisin frowned in thought. It was barely circumstantial evidence, but it brought to mind something Theo had said when the Third Year Slytherins had been discussing Black a few weeks ago. "Theo said that the only piece of Pettigrew that the Aurors found was a finger. Even if he was blown to bits, you'd think there would be more of him lying around than just one finger."

Ron's mutter about 'trust a Slytherin to look for the morbid details' went largely unacknowledged. Roisin suspected that the two adults were just relieved that someone was listening to them. Ron didn't stop protesting, however, insisting that Scabbers had been with the family for years. Professor Lupin interjected again. "Twelve years, in fact. Did you never wonder why he lived so long?"

It was clear that even Ron barely believed his protests of how the Weasley family had taken good care of Scabbers and how he had been scared of Hermione's 'mad cat'. Most of Black's protests about the cat fetching passwords and knowing instantly what Black was either went straight over Roisin's head, or confirmed her suspicion that Hermione's pet was at least part kneazle. When Black mentioned Scabbers faking his death, however, Harry brought things back on track. "And why did he fake his death? Because he knew you were coming to kill him like you'd killed my parents!"

"No," Professor Lupin cut in, "Harry –"

Black swiftly derailed that comfort, shooting an evil look at Scabbers. "Yes, I have."

Professor Lupin sighed as Harry exploded again. "Then I should have let Snape take you!"

Roisin placed a restraining hand on her cousin's arm as Professor Lupin made another attempt to calm things down. "Harry, don't you see? All this time we thought that Sirius betrayed your parents, and Pettigrew tracked him down – but it was the other way around, don't you see? _Peter _betrayed your parents… Sirius tracked _Peter_ down…"

Harry cut him off again, knocking Roisin's arm away. "_That's not true! He was their Secret-Keeper! He said so before you showed up; he said that he killed them!_"

Black's eyes were suspiciously bright, and Roisin doubted that Azkaban was responsible for the croak in his voice. "Harry, I as good as killed them. I was their Secret-Keeper, but I persuaded them to switch to Peter instead. When I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies – I realized what Peter must have done. What I'd done."

Roisin took a few seconds to lament the Gryffindor tendency toward Angst, and there was a very uncomfortable moment, broken by Professor Lupin, whose voice carried a strong note of steel that Roisin had only heard from her grandmother when she was facing off against Vernon and Petunia. "Enough of this. There is one certain way to prove this, or not. Ron, _give me that rat._"

Ron made a final protest, but ultimately handed over the rat. Scabbers was frantically trying to escape, but Black and Lupin hit him with bursts of white-blue light. The rat writhed in mid-air for a moment, and then fell to the floor, swiftly changing into a very short man with a distinctly rat-like appearance. For some reason, he did not look happy to be in human form, and his eyes kept darting toward the exits.

Professor Lupin twirled his wand in his fingers casually, acting as though animals turned into old school friends on a regular basis. Then again, when said friends were Animagi, they probably did. "Why, hello, Peter. Long time, no see."

If Pettigrew's panicked and unhappy expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been long enough. "Sirius… Remus… my friends… my old friends…"

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin stopped him, his voice still pleasant. "We've been having a little chat, Peter. About what _really_ happened the night James and Lily died. You may have missed the finer points while you were squeaking on the bed over there –"

Roisin wondered how Pettigrew had been able to fool anyone about anything. Going pale and breaking out in a sweat didn't exactly help your claims of innocence, nor did such obvious attempts to shift the blame. "Y – you don't believe him, do you? He tried to kill me, Remus!"

Professor Lupin's voice lost its pleasant tone, turning very cold. "So we've heard. I'd like to clear one or two little matters up with you, Peter, if you'd be so –"

Peter interrupted him, quickly descending into hysterics. "He's come to try and kill me again! He killed Lily and James, and now he's going to kill me too! You've got to help me, Remus!"

If Pettigrew didn't switch to a lower decibel, Roisin was going to go deaf, and kill him herself. Black didn't say anything, but fixed Peter with a very impressive Death Stare. Professor Lupin's voice was very grim. "No one is killing anyone until we've sorted a few things out."

Pettigrew's attempts to save his own hide and protest his doubtful innocence were growing more and more desperate, and less and less believable. Roisin kept one ear on the recriminations and counters, wondering how long it would take for people to notice that they had several people missing. Given the raging party in the dungeons and most likely in Gryffindor Tower, she doubted that there would be any help from either of the Houses, but surely the teachers would notice the absence of two colleagues?

The three adults were finally interrupted by Hermione. Roisin respected the other girl's intellect, but thought that now was really not the time to go off on tangents. "Mr. Black – Sirius? How did you escape from Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

Peter latched onto the question like a limpet on a rock, gasping out a very disjointed sentence. Several sparks from Roisin's wand shut him up long enough for Sirius to explain, sort of, his theory that being an Animagus and the knowledge that he was innocent allowed him to keep him mind, while the picture of Peter and the Weasleys motivated him to escape. Finally, he looked at Harry, who did not look away. "Believe me. Believe me; I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

There was no way to fake that kind of sincerity. Harry only nodded, but Pettigrew wailed as though Harry's acceptance was his death warrant. Then again, perhaps it was. Pettigrew desperately turned to Sirius and Professor Lupin in turn, a last-ditch effort to persuade them to spare his life. Roisin didn't know why he bothered, as both had already demonstrated a desire to kill him more than once since his transformation back into a human.

Finding no help from Ron or Hermione, either, Pettigrew turned to Roisin, only to be met with the business end of her wand and a glare that promised pain if he so much as opened his mouth. Pettigrew swiftly moved on to Harry. "Harry, you look just like your father… just like him…"

Black appreciated that line of begging even less than Harry did. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY? HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

Maybe Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, after all, because nothing short of Gryffindor bravado would have stopped anyone with a shred of self-preservation from freezing in terror. Pettigrew, however, somehow kept going. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me dead… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…"

Attempted emotional blackmail using James Potter's memory was too much for both Black and Professor Lupin, who grabbed Pettigrew by the shoulders and threw him backwards. Black was shaking with fury. "You sold Lily and James to Voldemort! Do you deny it?"

Roisin thought that the way Pettigrew burst into noisy tears was rather pathetic. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine…I was scared, Sirius! I was never brave like you or Remus or James. I never meant it to happen… He Who Must Not Be Named forced me…"

If Peter had been forced, then he would have used that as an excuse long before now, rather than try to blame Sirius, who was looking near-homicidal. "DON'T LIE! YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO VOLDEMORT FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED!"

Peter could clearly see his last threads of hope snapping, and looked on the verge of hyperventilation. "He – he was taking over everywhere! What was there to be gained by refusing him?"

In a room filled with loyal-and-steadfast-to-the-end Gryffindors (and two there-is-no-excuse-for-weakness Slytherins), this was not the best thing to say. Black clearly had some pent-up hostilities to release. "What was there to be gained by standing up to the most evil wizard to ever exist? Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" wailed Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

Slytherins didn't rush to death without exploring alternate possibilities, but alliances were formed from trust, and Hufflepuff wasn't the only House to value loyalty to friends. Black used less eloquent terms, "THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY THEM, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Professor Lupin's voice was quieter, but no less final. "You should have realized, if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

Hermione covered her eyes and turned away, but Harry rushed forward. Black and Professor Lupin instantly turned their wands away. "NO! You can't kill him. You can't."

Roisin blinked in confusion. What had happened to the whole 'He-killed-my-parents-and-I'll- kill him' attitude? "Harry, Traitors seldom change, and the only thing Peter regrets is the fact that he was caught. Do you want Pettigrew to have another chance to kill you or those you care about?"

Her quiet warning was ignored as Black and Lupin stared in disbelief. "Harry, this piece of slime is the reason you have no parents. This filth would have seen you die, too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

Harry's face was unusually serious. "I know. We can take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. If anyone deserves a place in Azkaban, he does. But don't kill him."

Pettigrew looked ready to kiss Harry's feet. "Harry… thank you, thank you… it's more than I deserve…"

Harry seemed nearly as repulsed as Roisin was, practically throwing Peter away from him. "Get off me! I just don't reckon my dad would want his friends to become killers, over you."

To anyone who bothered to look, it was clear that Black and Lupin wouldn't mind in the slightest. Ultimately, however, Professor Lupin tied Pettigrew up, splinted Ron's leg, and lead them back down the tunnel.

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Sirius Black was floating Professor Snape down the tunnel, as the potions master was still unconscious, but was making a nasty habit of cracking Professor Snape's head against producing roots. Finally, Roisin kicked him in the shins and took over, moving far more carefully as she listened to a conversation between Sirius and Harry.

Sirius hedged around a bit at first, but finally got around to mentioning his status as Harry's Godfather, and offering him a place to live or visit. Roisin giggled as Harry banged his head on the low ceiling in surprise, then practically fell over himself to agree and ask how soon he could move in.

Finally making it out of the tunnel and past the Whomping Willow, the little party began the trek up to the castle, Peter whimpering the whole time. This may or may not have been the result of Hermione having sent a discreet hex at him, but if it was, Roisin, at least, was not going to point it out.

They stopped abruptly when Professor Lupin froze. The overhead clouds parted to reveal a shining full moon, and several things suddenly fell into place in Roisin's head, only confirmed as Professor Lupin started to change into a were-wolf.

Pettigrew took the opportunity to change into his Animagus form and try to escape, but failed when Roisin's booted heel descended hard on his tail, pinning him in place while his high-pitched squeak of pain told Harry exactly where to aim a stunner.

Sirius Black had managed to fend Professor Lupin off, the Wolfsbane potion rendering him (mostly) harmless, and the were-wolf could now be seen running toward the forest. The conscious members of the party relaxed, and started to head up toward the castle, bringing the unconscious ones with them. Roisin was just starting to recover from the night's experience when she felt a familiar chill creeping up. "Harry, what's the incantation for that Patronus Charm you were talking about?"

Turning pale himself, Harry's voice was faintly unsteady as he replied "'_Expecto Patronum_'. Think of the happiest memory you have and really focus on it."

Well, there was no motivation like impending soullessness. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts_. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time as a little fleet of boats made their way across a still lake. "_Expecto Patronum_!" Discovering that she had an entire Clan of extended family who cherished the fact that she was magical, rather than scorned her for it. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

This obviously wasn't working, and Harry was the only one who seemed to be having even limited success. Time to try something else. She pulled out the slender dirk that she had carried with her since Halloween and cut the ropes holding Professor Snape. "Enervate!"

The Professor woke with a jerk, saw what was going on, and swore loudly before drawing his wand and casting a Patronus. A silvery, graceful doe leapt from his wand, forcing the Dementors back slightly as Professor Snape pushed Roisin behind him. From beneath his arm, Roisin aimed a powerful stinging hex at Hermione, jarring her back to consciousness, and the bushy-haired girl ran to help Harry drag Sirius away from the Dementors.

Harry was having much more success casting his Patronus now that reinforcements had arrived, and a silver stag joined the doe.

Blaise had kissed her over butterbeers the last Hogsmeade visit! Exams were finally over! Anything and everything that ever made her smile! "Expecto Patronum!"

It was nothing as spectacular as what Harry and Professor Snape were doing, but a silvery white mist in a faintly canine shape was certainly something to be proud of. Weasley had the sense to send off a loud 'BANG!' from his wand, and there was the sound of running footsteps. A silvery tabby cat and phoenix were the last things Roisin saw as she fainted.

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A/N: The second part of the original chapter is up, with only a day or so wait. Reviews and Constructive Criticism are very welcome and appreciated. *hint hint*  
Oh, and someone mentioned that people couldn't learn Parseltongue, you had to be born with it. In '**Deathly Hallows**' we have Ron opening the Chamber of Secrets, and there is no way that he was a parselmouth. I consider it to be like the difference between being a native/fluent (**insert language**) speaker, and being unilingual, but picking up a few forign words along the way. For example; I can count to 100 in Manderin and know the basic greetings, but don't ask me to carry a conversation.  
Hope that clears things up.

_Thanks, Nat._


	39. Arguements and Endings

_Disclaimer: I refuse to waste both your and my time by stating the blatantly obvious. If my lack of ownership has somehow failed to sink in by now, that's too bad, and I worry about your retention capabilities._

_Summary: We have all read the whole 'Harry/Malfoy/Hermione has a sister, yada, yada, yada.' Idea, but what if the aforementioned sister was not a Potter/Malfoy/Granger? What if she was a Dursley? Meet Roisin Dursley. Witch of the family._

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**Chapter Fifteen**

Roisin was awake, but had no intention of revealing that fact, and ferverently hoped that Professor Snape's usual favouritism held. Thankfully, she was in the bed next to the first-year that she had brought up earlier, and therefore went largely un-noticed while everyone focused on the Gryffindor Trio, whose case of argument would probably have been helped by a calmer demeanour and less shouting.

The Gryffindor Trio who were trying to convince Fudge, who had his head firmly in the sand, and a highly unreasonable Professor Snape that Azkaban's most notorious criminal was actually an innocent man. Needless to say, it wasn't going well, despite having a very obviously not-dead-even-though-he-was-supposed-to-be-in-many-different-fragments Peter Pettigrew tied up a few beds over.

Anticipating a firework display of epic proportions, Roisin decided to listen in further while continuing the pretence of sleep.

In all fairness, Professor Snape had been knocked unconscious while they had been discussing Black's innocence and the questioning of how the martyred Peter Pettigrew was still alive. Besides which, Professor Snape appeared to have some kind of grudge against Black (Roisin knew better than to ask for details) and it was a fantastic sort of tale, so he could be forgiven a certain amount of scepticism.

On the other hand, it seemed that Fudge's main reason for not wanting to admit Sirius's innocence stemmed mainly from not wanting to admit that the Ministry of Magic had dropped the Quaffle in a very spectacular fashion. The false imprisonment of a Pureblood Scion was hardly something to be taken lightly, after all, and could raise any number of potentially uncomfortable questions.

Roisin was processing all of this new information, when Madam Pomfrey ruined her eavesdropping by bustling over with a large block of chocolate. "Good, you're awake. It's noting serious, just a bump on the head and exposure to Dementors. Eat up, and you should be able to leave tomorrow morning."

Arguing with Healers never worked, and Roisin started in on her chocolate without complaint. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey's brisk bedside manner had also drawn the attention of the Professor Snape and Minister Fudge, who had just been joined by Headmaster Dumbledore. "Ah, Miss O'Conner, perhaps you could share your version of events?"

Roisin winced as all attention turned to her. She was going to catch Utter Hell off of her Head of House, but Professor Dumbledore had an uncanny knack for knowing whether or not you were telling the truth with just a look. Roisin sighed and started to explain. "I had escorted a First-Year to the hospital wing and ran into Professor Snape on my way back to the Common Room. We aren't allowed to wander around after curfew without an escort, so Professor Snape was escorting me when he had to drop something off with Professor Lupin. When we were in Professor Lupin's office, Professor Snape saw something and ran out. I didn't want to get into trouble for being out late, so I followed him. We wound up in the Shrieking Shack where Black and Professor Lupin had brought Ron, Harry and Hermione. To be fair, I don't think that Black had intended to bring Harry and his friends, and Professor Lupin only followed when he saw them disappear under the Whomping Willow. Both of them were more interested in Ron's pet rat, anyway."

Roisin paused to take a deep breath as Fudge urged her to continue. "Why would a werewolf and an escaped convicted murderer be interested in a pet rat, girl? Especially with Harry Potter right there?"

Roisin took up the tale again. "Because the rat was an Animagus who turned into the man who is tied up over there. Has someone put an anti-transformation ward on him yet, by the way?" She gestured to where Pettigrew lay on the other side of the room. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, and a glow of black light settled around the bed. "I've never seen any pictures of Peter Pettigrew, but it seemed to me that a lot of what the man said when he was trying to explain himself was far too intimate to be common knowledge outside of the Potter's closest circle."

Professor Snape was looking displeased, and Professor Dumbledore cheerfully enigmatic, while the Gryffindor Trio were gaping at Roisin in disbelief. Hermione recovered first. "That's exactly right, Minister. There should at least be a trial or an inquiry about it."

Minister Fudge was practically squirming as he tried to avoid their eyes. "Well, about a trial… public support… confidence in the Ministry… might not be possible… safety risk…"

It is well known that the best ideas are often spur-of-the-moment, and frequently somewhat crazy. Roisin's idea was both, and not a little wicked. "But you have to hold a trial! He can't get away with such a horrid crime! You can't let him loose on the unsuspecting Public!"

Fudge blinked in confusion, giving her an odd look. "What are you on about? Of course we aren't letting Black go free! He's already a menace; why would we set him loose in public?"

Roisin waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure you'll do what's best for the Wizarding World with Black, but I wasn't talking about him."

Fudge looked even more confused, and both Professors raised questioning eyebrows. Roisin blinked innocently. "Well, even if he isn't Peter Pettigrew, I know that _I_ don't feel comfortable about a grown man, an unregistered Animagus, masquerading as the pet of a young boy and sleeping in a shared dorm room. One can only imagine the motivations!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Roisin saw Ron and Harry turn a very interesting shade of green at her insinuations, and smirked to herself, though she was very careful to keep her face serious as she continued. "He has to be made an example of! My Clan is going to be furious when they find out, and the news is probably spreading through the school already! I can't imagine how the Weasley family will react, or Draco or Pansy or Theo's parents!"

The Weasley family may have been poor, but they were also a very old and respected line. Beyond that, The O'Conner Clan was very good at causing problems, especially for government institutions, if one of their numbers was threatened.

Also, Fudge had attended Hogwarts himself, and knew how efficient the rumour mill could be. Most of the students at Hogwarts had influential families, and the classmates that Roisin had specifically named were the children of very rich and powerful families that just happened to number among Fudge's strongest supporters.

If Fudge wanted to remain in power, and out of Azkaban himself, there was really only one solution, which Professor Dumbledore kindly pointed out. "There are several excellent holding cells in the Ministry, and I'm sure the Aurors would be more than glad to keep an eye on Mr. Black and our other prisoner, at least until a trial can be held. Showing justice does wonders for public morale, after all."

Fudge grabbed at the potential lifeline with both hands. "Excellent idea, Dumbledore! Capital, just capital. Er, the Wizarding population must know that our government is doing everything to protect them and see that justice is served."

It was a very good thing that Fudge was looking at Dumbledore, and therefore missed the other Infirmary occupants rolling their eyes at his back. Honestly, was failing a basic IQ test a requirement for politicians, or something?

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As a precaution, Roisin had described the story of the previous night's happenings in great detail to the entire Slytherin House (once they recovered from the end-of-exams/year-celebration), and then to Luna, while several of the chattier Ravenclaws were trying to eavesdrop. When Roisin attempted to send her weekly letter home, she found the owlery almost emptied, and the few owls left were probably only there because many students possessed their own pet owls.

Nor was that the only news being sent home. The Dementors had been very quickly removed after the Third Year Slytherins had carefully let slip that a member of their House had been attacked by the Dementors with no cause, and on Hogwarts grounds. Along with the fact that there was no more need for them, with Black and Pettigrew under 24-hour watch in the Ministry dungeons, this new revelation sent a host of Highly Placed parents shrieking in protest to the Minister's office.

Not wanting to offend so many re-election campaign donations, and with no real further need for their presence, Fudge instantly ordered the horrible creatures back to Azkaban.

* * *

Though there was only a week of school left, it was not quiet. Professor Lupin had been outed as a Werewolf, and while Roisin did not have the exact details of how that had come to light, she had her suspicions. The trials for Sirius and Pettigrew were generating a lot of interest, and would take place two weeks after the Summer Holiday started. Roisin had been quietly warned that she might be called upon to testify, although it was unlikely, as Fudge was still attempting to keep things as quiet as possible.

Harry had been very grateful for her contribution to the arguement in the Hospital Wing, and offered Roisin anything she wanted. Roisin warned him about making such open-ended promises, and would have requested Harry's first-born or elevation of status to goddess-on-earth as an example, if she hadn't worried that he would take her seriously.

Draco was loudly sulking about how the hippogriff that had attacked him had somehow pulled off a literally last second escape, and almost everyone was chatting about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup that was to be held over the summer.

Speaking of Quidditch, Gryffindor's spectacular performance carried them to win the House Cup, but the Slytherin's consoled themselves with the fact that the fifty points Roisin had been awarded for her part in the End-Of-Year-Fiasco (and a few biased Slytherin Prefects) managed to edge out Hufflepuff for second place. Ravenclaw would have come second, but one of them had commented that it was a pity that the Dementors hadn't caught Roisin and Professor Snape.

Understandably, the Slytherins took exception to this, and, while most of the school was occupied with a final Hogsmeade Weekend, or out enjoying the sunshine, framed Ravenclaw House for a prank that turned the potions lab a fluorescent pink, causing Professor Snape to take points until someone confessed who was responsible.

Given that none of the Ravenclaws were actually guilty, and therefore could not confess or even sell out, they would up with almost no points by the Leaving Feast. One of the second years tried to pin it on Luna, and was given a moment's consideration and then detention for such an obvious falsehood – if Luna pulled a prank, it would be far more elaborate and bizarre, and Luna wouldn't have bothered hiding her guilt. Quite the contrary, she probably would have claimed that she was setting a trap for one of her obscure creatures, or conducting some kind of study for the Quibbler.

Exam results came on the last day of term, and Roisin was pleased to find that she had done very well in almost all her subjects, and resolved to borrow Hermione's study guide more often in the future. Her Potions grade was a lot lower than predicted, as Roisin usually ranked between Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations. Given that her Exam grade was only three points away from earning a Dreadful, Roisin concluded that Professor Snape was still upset.

From Hermione's depressed face at her grade (only a 55%, as opposed to her usual 100%), and Harry's surprised one when he was informed that he had passed Potions at all, Roisin had a feeling that Dumbledore had stepped in to stop Professor Snape from failing the lot of them on purpose.

* * *

The train ride back to London went by in a blur of laughter, talking and planning for the summer. Roisin didn't know if her family was going to the Quidditch World Cup, but everyone else was, and Roisin could see even Pansy's eyes start to glaze over with the amount of times Draco bragged that he and his parents would be sitting in the Top Box, along with the Minister of both participating countries.

Why anyone would want to put up with Fudge for an entire game, Top Box or not, was beyond Roisin, and she said as much. Draco denounced Roisin as ignorant, and pointed out that Roisin wouldn't be sitting in the Top Box anyway, so her opinion didn't matter.

Blaise gritted his teeth at yet another mention of the seating arrangements, and Theo grabbed Millicent's hand when it started to twitch toward her wand.

Plans were also made to get a start on the Animagus potion over the summer, now that they had all of the ingredients. Roisin's house was out of the question; although she knew that her parents would be thrilled to have her somewhere else, they would never allow her to have any of her 'Freakish' friends over.

With this certainty of failure to get permission, Roisin saw no reason to endure the headache that would be incurred just by asking. Given that Harry also lived there, and that Desdemona was the only one of her friends who knew that she was the daughter of a squib, Roisin had never had any intention of letting them near Privet Drive, anyway.

Finally, they settled on Desdemona's house, as her family had stopped questioning or trying to get involved with her personal activities a long time ago.

Hexing a few people to make them stop blocking the train corridors, Roisin collected her trunk, stepped off the train, and waved goodbye to her friends as she followed Harry through the barrier to Muggle King's Cross Station. Seeing her parents waiting for them, Roisin sighed and consoled herself that it would only be for a few days.

Keeping that firmly in mind, Roisin skipped over to her scowling family. For once, she was looking forward to the two months between school years.

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A/N: Hope you all liked. Next chapter is up, and we have reached the end of Year Three! Year Four probably won't be up until after Christmas, or possibly even next year, but I'll do my best.

_Sorry about the wait, but I just started my new job and returned from holiday overseas without internet access, so yeah. I've also been working on a few Christmas poems, which are under the 'Bible' category because I wasn't sure where to put them._

_Now seriously, I hate asking for reviews, but this story is on 92 Alerts, 74 Favourites, and 9 C2s. Despite this, the last chapter only had two reviews, but 240 hits, and the chapter before that only one review. I really would like to know what people think, if they have any suggestions, or spot room for improvement._

_Constructive Criticism is a writer's greatest reward, while Flames are a writer's greatest source of amusement._

_Thanks, Nat_


	40. Summer Visitations and Potions

_Disclaimer: Oh, not again! I don't own Harry Potter.  
Summary: See previous chapters._

**This chapter is dedicated to my twin, Sally, who died December 26, 2005.**

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Chapter One

This Summer was turning out to be markedly different from any previous ones.

For a start, Harry had not been around much, busy with his Godfather's trial and preparations to move out of Privet Drive. This was both good and bad. Good; because the most of the Dursley family was thrilled to see him go, but also bad; because their attention now turned to the last reminder of magic under their roof: Roisin Dursley.

In previous years, especially since Roisin and Harry had turned eleven and started Hogwarts, Vernon, Petunia and Dudley could usually be counted on to focus on Harry, and largely ignore their daughter/twin, as long as she didn't draw attention to herself.

With Harry gone, they were in a bit of a quandary. In the eleven years before they had received confirmation that the second Dursley child could do magic (Vernon and Petunia had perfected the art of Denial) Roisin had been their 'Little Treasure', 'Precious Baby Girl', and other nauseating endearments, and the Dursleys had no problem with telling everyone that there was no finer girl to be found. After finding irrefutable proof that Roisin was a witch, the table had shifted.

Vernon and Petunia had known that Harry would be a wizard, and had cheerfully kept him as downtrodden as possible, telling anyone who would listen that he was mentally disturbed and whatever else they could think of. Unfortunately, when you spend years loving your child and praising them to the skies, it becomes difficult to turn around and say that they are suddenly the core of all that is wrong with the world. This in mind, the Dursleys gave thanks that Roisin was a quiet child, told everyone who asked that they were busy with schoolwork, and tried to simply ignore her.

Upon the discovery that Harry would be moving out, Roisin instantly made last-second arrangements to spend as much of her Holiday as possible elsewhere. Now, she would be spending a week or so at Desdemona's house, a yet-to-be-determined time at the Quidditch World Cup (While not her usual sport of choice, she couldn't help but be excited about such a big event) and the rest of the time at the O'Conner Keep, home of her Paternal Grandmother.

Her plans had been approved almost instantly by all concerned parties, but until Desdemona came to collect her that afternoon, Roisin was stuck on her own. On the positive side, the enforced solitude gave her plenty of time to complete her homework, and the lack of distraction made perfect conditions for her Ancient Runes project.

The Summer Homework was interesting, but required a lot of quiet, concentration and good lighting, and it was hard to come by all three at the same time while in the O'Conner Keep, or anywhere else that she would be visiting that Summer. Roisin had solved the problem by barricading herself in her room straight after returning from her morning walk/breakfast and ignoring the rest of the house. Years of practice in tuning people out came in very handy, too.

Each Ancient Runes student had to make their own rune set, choosing their favored type of rune and materials, along with a short essay on why they had chosen the particulars. Just to make things interesting, the essay had to be written in the rune set that they had chosen.

Roisin had used polished white moonstone, which carried feminine energy and was an excellent stone for introspection, both of which would attune to her personality. Other aspects included compassion, self-expression, intuition and balance. It was also good for guidance, and was often worn by travelers for protection and good luck.

Roisin had carefully carved the 29 Anglo-Saxon runes into the stone (finding 29 suitable stones hadn't exactly been a picnic, either, and she resorted to owl-ordering from a specialized shop when she visited Diagon Alley), inking them in with a mixture of her own blood, to personalize the rune set, and charcoal to darken and purify.

Another Development was that Dudley had been put on a diet. While Vernon and Petunia's amazing gift for denial had managed to explain away Dudley's usual horrific grades and accusations of bullying, the comments from the school nurse were not so easily dismissed. Roisin admitted that having a brother who was the size and weight of a young killer whale was not something to laugh over, but had been unable to contain her glee at Dudley's expression when he discovered his new food schedule for the summer.

Roisin had quickly stopped laughing when the announcement came that everyone would be following the diet, to make Dudley feel better. Still, proper Slytherins did not follow orders blindly, just because an authority figure said so, and the Dursley Household was far more peaceful when Roisin wasn't around. A quick trip to Gringotts to exchange a few galleons, and Roisin would spend most of her days at the coffee shop a few blocks away.

Now, however, she was doing a quick sweep of her rooms to make sure she hadn't left anything behind while she waited for Desdemona to pick her up. Desdemona was a very exuberant girl, and Roisin happily anticipated how the Dursleys would react to her best friend.

She didn't have to worry about the Living Room being destroyed by an attempt to travel by Floo, as Desdemona was one of the very few aware of Roisin's muggle heritage and upbringing. That left the Knight Bus (guaranteed motion sickness), Apparition (unlikely, as Desdemona had only recently celebrated her fourteenth birthday, and Apparition was not taught until Sixth Year), or something that Roisin had yet to think of.

Roisin's musings were broken by an ear-splitting scream from her mother. Smirking for a moment, Roisin grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. The Living Room yielded an interesting sight: Petunia was cowering behind Vernon, while Dudley stood petrified, clutching his bottom with both hands. Looking at them oddly was Desdemona and a House Elf, which was probably what had caused the scream.

Catching Roisin's quiet snicker, Desdemona bounced over to hug her, absently telling the House Elf to fetch Roisin's trunk. "Hi, Rosie! Ready for a summer of fun and excitement, free from boredom?"

Roisin laughed again. "Don't call me Rosie! And since when has boredom managed to remain in the same post code as you? For that matter, who let you near the caffeine this morning?"

Desdemona actually seemed to seriously consider the question as the House Elf returned with Roisin's trunk. "I'll get back to you on that. Let's go, Mimsy." (That was to the House Elf) "Er, not to seem rude, but why is your brother hanging onto his bum like that?"

Roisin smiled at the memory of Hagrid giving Dudley a pig's tail. "I'll tell you later."

* * *

The two girls re-appeared in a large sitting room, facing a window that looked out into beautiful gardens. Staggering, Roisin promptly over-balanced, and was steadied by two dark hands, which turned out to be her boyfriend, Blaise Zabini. "Hi, Blaise."

The Italian boy smiled and kissed her on the cheek, leading her over to where the rest of their year-mates were scattered over two sofas, a reclining chair, and the floor.

Greetings and a quick catch-up later, Desdemona clapped her hands together, bouncing slightly. "Right, now to the real purpose of our gathering…"

Theo interrupted with a smirk, "You mean it wasn't because you couldn't live without my company? I'm hurt, Desdemona, really cut to the core."

Roisin sent him an icy glare, and then regally ignored him. "Shut up, Theo. You were saying, Desdemona?"

Desdemona had also sent Theo a dark look, but brightened up, almost bouncing in excitement. "We're going to make the Potion!"

The Slytherins had spent a good portion of the last school year researching the process of becoming Animagi, an activity that was a lot more widespread than the seven Animagi on Ministry Record would suggest. Unfortunately, it was a long and difficult process, and many of the ingredients needed were either expensive or very difficult to get. Fortunately, Blaise's (current) father worked with a business that imported and exported potions ingredients, and most of the others, like Draco, had relatives in very high places.

Roisin and her Year mates had missed the chance to brew the Animagus potion over last year's Easter Break, so they had re-scheduled it for over the summer holiday. The Malfoys and Parkinsons would never tolerate sanction having an Irish witch with a Muggle great-grandparent in their homes for an extended period of time, and were too active in society for the Slytherin Teens to remain un-noticed.

Millicent's family were in Trade, and it was unlikely that there would even be any room or equipment in the potions lab for them to use in the first place. In a similar vein, the O'Conner Keep was at least as busy, especially during the Holidays, for them to have any uninterrupted time to work, even without Roisin's three younger cousins running around.

Greg and Vince may have taken after their respective fathers as far as intelligence went, but their grandparents had shown an amount of Common Sense by marrying Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle to scarily brilliant women, and keeping a secret in either of those houses was next to impossible.

That left Desdemona and Theo. Theo's parents were Ravenclaws, and Animagi themselves, but while they calmly ignored the Ministry Registration Law, they listened to the even sillier one that claimed a witch or wizard had to be eighteen before they could try to become an Animagus. Hypocrites.

Desdemona's parents, on the other hand, had long ago adopted the policy that as long as it didn't result in blowing up the Manor, they probably didn't want the headache that resulted in getting involved with whatever their daughter was up to. Better still, no one would give it much thought if Desdemona wanted to do something as refreshingly normal as inviting a few friends over for a week or so, especially when her parents would be very busy, and was really the only one of Roisin's year-mates that Fionna would allow her to visit for so long.

They had to wait for a few days, so that Desdemona's parents would feel comfortable enough to leave them to their own devices and stop checking up on them. Roisin was of particular interest, as Desdemona's best friend yet total opposite, but thankfully, it wore off in a few days.

The original timeframe for brewing was one week, though the actual time required was 5.4 days. Since the first step (boiling and purifying the water) took eighteen hours, this offered plenty of time to prepare the other ingredients.

Working in shifts, it also gave those who were not currently brewing time to eat, sleep, and research and practice some of the spells.

The first thing they needed to do was work out shifts. Desdemona's parents might pay minimal attention to their daughter's activities, but all nine of them couldn't disappear at the one time, and it was vital that at least on good potions student was with each group. All Slytherins achieved high marks in Professor Snape's class, but there was no way that Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy were going to be left to their own devices without proper supervision.

The shifts finally worked out as three groups taking as-needed shifts. The first group was Desdemona, Roisin and Theo, the latter two as calming influences on the hyperactive third, all three Exceeding Expectations in Potions.

The second group was Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, as it would be suspicious for one to be seen without the other two, and Draco was in the top five of their year for Potions, practical-wise.

The final group was Pansy, Blaise and Millicent, with Millicent just below Draco when it came to Potions, Blaise with his exquisite attention to instructions, and Pansy with her perfect sense of timing.

The shifts were worked out according to the steps. The first day was easy, requiring only periodic stirring, but the rest was trickier, as it would be stupid to interrupt mid-step just to change shifts.

The first step was mountain spring water, boiled over six hours to remove any impurities. Then, the water had to be left to cool for three hours, before being brought back up to a simmer. Then you started to add the ingredients.

The powdered moonstone neutralized the explosive quality of the erumpent fluid, with the two ingredients forming the base of the potion; opposite natures merging and co-existing. It had to be stirred once every three minutes over eighteen hours, and turn shimmering silver before the next ingredient could be added.

The ingredient after that was a centaur tail-hair, symbolizing the combination of human and animal. An hour later came the Basilisk tongue, representing reptilian animals, and the powdered bezoars to ensure that the potential Animagus didn't die while drinking. Two hours of constant stirring later, it was time to add the augurey feathers, representing birds. Three hours after that came the four Plimpy's livers, representing aquatic creatures. Another four hours of stirring, and it was time for the Crup heart, representing mammals.

After that came another twelve hours of stirring twice every five minutes, seven hours of letting it stand, and five hours of stirring counter-clockwise, adding one piece of chopped daisy root every two-and-a-half stirs.

That was the complicated part. After that, the remaining ingredients had to be added in order of decreasing potency, one every three hours, slowly stirred in over half an hour, then left to boil for two-and-a-half hours, before adding the next ingredient.

Once all of the thirty ingredients were added and stirred in, the potion had to be taken off the fire and left to cool for another ten hours, until it changed to the color of burnt sienna. The final step was to let it stand for another three hours, then pick someone to take a drink and see if it worked. If it did work, the drinker would be surrounded by a brown glow for an hour.

After that, the potion was good for up to ten months, which gave them until April in their Fifth Year. Since the potion had to be taken less than five minutes after casting the charm to reveal a person's Animagus form, and the charm would take at least a month to master, this was a good thing.

After that, it would only be a matter of time and getting the self-Transfiguration part down properly.

* * *

They started brewing in the communal sitting room between Desdemona's room and two of the guest rooms. They would have brewed in Desdemona's fireplace, but Mr. or Mrs. Moon or one of the House Elves had an unfortunate tendency to stick their heads in if they thought it had been too quiet for too long.

The time between shifts passed in a blur of exploding snap, flying, talking excitedly about the coming year, and attempting to make Draco spill the beans on the big surprise that would be taking place. The blond youth was proving unusually resilient to the questioning, despite their best efforts.

* * *

"But why me?" The question was almost a plaintive wail.

Roisin narrowed her eyes as she advanced on Greg, holding a vial of a rich, dark brown potion. "Because I said so; because you have the strongest constitution and some kind of blackmail over your Healer cousin; because your family isn't expecting you home for another three days, whereas I go home tomorrow; because you were the last person to refuse; or because I said so. Take your pick."

Greg eyed the potion with a certain amount of trepidation, but took the vial and drank it down. Grimacing in distaste, he handed it back to Roisin, just as the air around him changed to a soft brown colour. The young teens cheered, and nearly missed the knock at the door, all of them exchanging panicked glances as the doorknob started to turn.

Thinking quickly, Roisin shook herself out of her frozen state and threw a colouring charm at Draco. "Got you! Take that, Malfoy!"

Similar to a Muggle Paintball gun, the charm turned whoever it hit a specific colour. Finding himself glowing a lovely shade of neon pink was enough to break Draco out of his paralysis, and he let out a shriek of rage, firing a charm right back at her. Roisin dived out of the way, causing the spell to hit Millicent, who promptly turned a vivid orange.

The other Slytherins caught on, and it descended into a free-for-all just as the door opened, and Desdemona's mother barely avoided being turned blue. Reassured that the upcoming Fourth Years were just being children, Mrs. Moon shut the door again and left them to it. Turning each other different colours was mild compared to some of the things Desdemona had pulled off as a child.

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A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you all had an enjoyable (insert religious observation here)! Reviews are like belated Christmas presents, and flames are still laughed at.

_BTW, I've taken a dip into the Twilight fandom with an ongoing series of One-shots that I would love constructive criticism on. *sigh* My parents really should know better than to give me a new writing book and then expect me to participate in small talk…_

_Thanks, Nat._


	41. Many Meetings

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This should have sunk in by now, but ff.n insists._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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Chapter Forty-One

The Week before the Quidditch Cup was a frantic one. After two weeks at Desdemona's house, Roisin was spending the other three weeks before the cup at the O'Conner Keep, then port keying back to Desdemona's home after the Cup, where she would stay until the start of term.

Arthur Weasley had a contact in the Ministry of Magic who had managed to get him free tickets to the Top Box at the Quidditch World Cup, and had grabbed a few extra in order to invite Hermione, Sirius and Harry. Unfortunately, the Ministry was still sucking up to Sirius after the Azkaban fiasco, and had already given him two tickets, which he had saved as a surprise on Harry's birthday.

Given that most of the Weasley's friends already had tickets of their own, and that disinterest in Quidditch was some kind of sacrilege in the Weasley Household, Ginny had decided to drag Roisin along in Harry's stead. How much of this was due to genuine affection for Roisin herself was anyone's guess, but she decided to give Ginny the benefit of the doubt.

Sadly, this meant travelling to the Burrow at what Roisin (and most sensible people) considered the ungodly hours of the morning, just to catch a port key. Snacking on a muesli-bar that she had been able to grab on her way out of bed and carrying a backpack, the pre-dawn hours found a barely-awake Roisin catching the Knight Bus to the Burrow.

On the positive side, this meant that Roisin was very much awake when she staggered out of the bus in Ottery St. Catchpole. Clinging to the Knight Bus's "Oh, Shit" handle in sheer terror for the entire trip tended to wake you up sharpish.

Fortunately, she only had to wait a few minutes before Harry, Sirius and the Weasleys showed up, most still half-asleep. Hermione seemed to be keeping herself awake by reciting the uses of the bubotuber plant. Focusing on something specific was a good way to kick-start your mind in the morning. Except when you had History of Magic first period, in which case you were better off sleeping in and getting the homework assignment off someone else.

Stoatshead Hill was, in all fairness, an attractive outline against the grey, pre-dawn sky, even if it was going to be a pain in the backside to find a portkey with almost no light to see by.

They were joined at the hill by Amos Diggory and his son, Cedric, a Hufflepuff sixth-year and Quidditch player. Ginny and the Trio didn't know him that well outside of playing against Harry last year, and the twins were still annoyed about Cedric beating them in that match, as his father couldn't seem to stop pointing out, despite Cedric's obvious discomfort.

Roisin, however, had no grudge against the good-natured (and good-looking) boy, and exchanged friendly smiles. Having a boyfriend didn't automatically make her blind, after all.

* * *

Roisin and Portkeys didn't get along very well, so Roisin was quite proud that she didn't fall flat on her backside when they landed. However, her relief was very short-lived when Hermione staggered into her and they were both knocked flat anyway. The Weasley Twins found this hilarious, and Roisin could admit that it probably was, but Cedric was nice enough to attempt to hide his amusement as he helped them back up.

The party split up after that, with the Diggorys going to one campsite, and the Weasley-and-Co. party heading to another. The manager for the Campsite where the Weasleys would be staying was called Mr. Roberts, a very over-perceptive man who realized that something strange was going on and became very curious at Mr. Weasley's attempts to pay him.

Roisin finally grabbed the bills and paid him herself, mumbling an apology about foreign relatives wanting to fit in, then left the others to their own devices and wandered off to find where the O'Conner's were staying. All of the clan members under the age of seventeen had been given a pre-made charm that acted something like a personalized tracking charm; enabling them to find the rest of the family should they become separated.

Climbing onto a small boulder to get a better view, it wasn't hard to spot the Irish Encampment, with every tent so covered in Shamrocks that it bore a strong resemblance to a sea of small, oddly shaped hillocks. It wasn't hard to see the Bulgarian area, either, as every single tent displayed a large poster of the Bulgarian Seeker.

Still, it was better than several of the other tents that Roisin passed on the way over, many of whom had gone completely overboard. Following her charm, Roisin passed a tent that looked like a palace out of the Arabian Nights, and a large tent with several white peacocks out the front (probably the Malfoys – Roisin had to bite back a smirk at the idea of Draco's reaction to camping like a muggle).

There was also a tent covered with printed Quidditch players, which could have been explained to curious Muggles as the result of letting the kids pick the tent – had the players not been zooming over the cloth and passing the Quaffle between each other. One player dove for an embroidered snitch and crashed into another player. Roisin smirked and moved on.

"Hey, Roisin!" The cry came from two directions and several different mouths. One direction was from Seamus Finnegan of Gryffindor, who was sitting with his friend, Dean Thomas, and a woman who could only be his mother. Mrs. Finnegan was talking to 'Aunt' Nessa, who waved at Roisin.

The other direction involved Fionna and Roisin's 'Uncle' Michael, along with Roisin's cousins. 10-year-old Erin practically bounced over, brimming with excitement, closely followed by 13-year-old twins Mary and Seamus. Nineteen-year-old Aidan and his newly-hand fasted, Aoibhe, one of Roisin's older friends, were also there, attempting to keep the younger three under control.

Less than an hour later, Harry, Hermione and the youngest two Weasleys showed up, carrying water containers and an invitation back to their campsite, due to the fact that Mr. Weasley still had Roisin's entry ticket. Roisin agreed in theory, but wanted to spend at least some time with her family before the match, so the other four agreed to pick her up after they had retrieved their water.

Roisin thanked them and turned back to her discussion of a Rune Project with Aoibhe as Ginny and the Trio assured Mrs. Finnegan that of course they would be supporting Ireland. Roisin wasn't so sure, given Ron's near-worship of the Bulgarian Seeker, but it wasn't like they were about to say anything to the contrary, smack-bang in the middle of Irish territory.

* * *

International events were a breeding ground for communication-based misunderstandings, especially given that the Quidditch World Cup would bring people from all over the world, only a small portion of whom would have English as a first language, and with rivalries running high, it only took the smallest thing to set them off. Dudley had been the cause, and Roisin an unfortunate bystander, of many such Fiascos, but she liked to think of them as a learning experience.

This particular learning experience ultimately boiled down to two lessons: The First, that shooting your mouth was best saved for non-hostile environments. The Second, that things would go a lot smoother if Roisin had something to help with widespread communication.

There was no way for her to learn a multitude of different languages in only a few weeks, so she went looking for an alternative. Aoibhe might not have been far out of school, but she was well on her way to becoming a certified Master at crafting rune-spells and enchantments. Add in watching a 'dubbed' film on the telly, and you had the groundwork for a universal translation spell.

The desire not to get cursed was an excellent motivation, and the study and crafting of rune-spells was on the agenda for Fourth- and Fifth-Year Ancient Runes. Each rune had a meaning attached, as well as a letter value, and Roisin made good use of this.

A small iron tablet, small enough to blend in on Roisin's charm bracelet, would be carved with a series of runes. Kenaz; for knowledge. Gebo; for balance and equal exchange. Nauthiz; meaning need. Ehwaz; for endurance, Ansuz; for communication, Wunjo; for success and Uruz; for understanding. Infused with a touch of magic and finished with they symbol for unity, all the project needed was to finish carving the runes and take it for a test run.

You had to concentrate on the language you wanted, and would end up speaking in a very formal manner, and Slang wouldn't translate at all, but it was better than nothing, and kinks could be identified and worked out after the Quidditch Cup.

* * *

The Weasley campsite was still a Work-In-Progress as they approached. Sirius had obviously spent some time camping the Muggle way (probably when James Potter was still trying to impress Aunt Lily) but that had been well over a decade ago. To make matters worse, he was being blocked at every turn by Arthur Weasley, who was insisting that as the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, he knew best.

Sirius looked on the verge of ripping his hair out, but spared a grin for the teens. He had been very willing to overlook Roisin's Slytherin background once he heard how she had convinced Fudge to convict Pettigrew. Cunning, Brilliance and House Affiliation aside, he thought that the whole thing made a magnificent prank.

Roisin had been camping the Muggle way during a School Field Trip just before her Hogwarts Letter had arrived, but that didn't make Mr. Weasley in any way inclined to listen to her advice, either. Finally, Roisin gave up and sat back to observe.

The novelty of watching Mr. Weasley create his own kindling out of broken matchsticks, then finally light one, only to drop it in surprise, quickly wore off, and Roisin set her etching tools out of a tray-table, carefully carving out the proper Rune sequence.

They eventually managed to get the fire started, and the tents more-or-less set up, and put a pot of tea on. This was a relief, as Hermione's dash to rescue the kettle and then play hostess finally stopped her from quizzing Roisin about her Rune project, despite Sirius's instructions to 'leave the poor girl alone'.

Roisin liked Hermione, yes, but she liked knowing something that Hermione didn't even more, and thoroughly enjoyed watching Hermione go out of her mind trying to figure it out. Besides, the two girls were usually neck-and-neck for the top mark in Ancient Runes, and Roisin had no intention of giving up a potential advantage that might lead to beating Hermione Granger in the academic arena.

* * *

They had just started making breakfast/lunch, with Mr. Weasley providing a running commentary on the people who passed by their camp, when Bill, Charlie and Percy Weasley showed up, having had the benefit of a lie-in before Apparating to the World Cup. Shortly after them, Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports appeared. He practically bounced as he walked, and was clearly in a state of excited, boyish cheer. Percy clearly shared Roisin's sentiment of disapproval and wanting to strangle him.

Thankfully, Bagman seemed oblivious. "Arthur, old man! What a day, eh? Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements. Not even much for me to do!"

Roisin raised a disbelieving eyebrow as a group of harried-looking wizards rushed past behind Bagman, heading for what was probably a magical fire that happened to be shooting bright purple sparks twenty feet into the air. Roisin found it far more likely that Bagman's Under-staff considered him to be largely useless, and only passed on the work that even he couldn't possibly mess up.

Percy's disapproval didn't stop him from wanting to make a good impression as he introduced himself, prompting Mr. Weasley to complete the introductions. Ludo visibly reacted to Harry and Sirius, but only beamed and waved cheerfully to the rest, before asking if any of them wanted to bet on the match.

Roisin had her allowance and a trust fund in both Wizarding and Muggle worlds, but that had to last her until she had a steady income of her own, and she never bet on anything less than a sure thing. If it was how many points Professor Snape was going to remove from Gryffindor in an average Potions Class, then fine, but there were far too many variables in the Quidditch World Cup, so she politely declined.

Conversation descended into small talk, and Roisin turned back to her runes. While Elder Furthark was not difficult to carve, having no curves, there was very limited room on the tablet, and you had to focus to carve them all small enough to fit. Things perked up slightly when Mr. Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and Percy's boss, showed up. Roisin had to stifle a giggle when Crouch addressed Percy as 'Weatherby', and she doubted that the Twins would let him live it down any time soon.

Her curiosity was instantly piqued when Bagman began dropping hints about something involving both Hogwarts and the Ministry in the coming year. Roisin resolved to ask Draco at the next opportunity. The blond youth had a talent for eavesdropping, and could never resist a chance to brag about how well-connected the Malfoy family was. If you phrased the question right and appealed to his vanity, Draco became a veritable fountain of information.

* * *

As the day wore on, the level of excitement increased, until it was almost tangible. Sales wizards were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays of pushing carts of merchandise. There were luminous rosettes – Green for Ireland and Red for Bulgaria – scarves and banners and hats covered with dancing shamrocks or roaring lions. There were tiny models of broomsticks, which actually flew, or of the players themselves, which walked around, preening themselves.

Roisin bought a scarf decorated with shamrocks, along with a program and a pair of omnioculars, which acted something like the Wizarding version of recording something on the VCR. She already had models of the Kenmare Kestrels team, and ornaments that constantly squeaked out the same three names became very annoying very quickly.

Finally a deep, booming gong sounded, and everyone turned toward the stadium, as green and red lanterns burst to life, lining the path to the door. Mr. Weasley looked as excited as any of them. "It's starting! Come on, everyone!"

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A/N: Yay, the next chapter is up! Chapter 42 shouldn't take too long, but it depends on how much free time I have. My second job (invigilating at UTS) starts up again soon, and I'm getting more shifts at Target. While this is very good for my bank account, it does cut into my writing time. Occasionally my sanity, too, when we have to deal with particularly obnoxious customers who think that a womans nightgown should be half-price because someone dumped it in the boys childrenswear five seconds ago and I haven't had a chance to go to the other end of the store to put it back.  
Or the mum who saw nothing wrong with her children zooming around on their new christmas scooters right next to the **breakable **glasswear in the home and decor section. Or the one who threatened to sue us because her kid whacked her head while scurrying under a stand and we didn't notice because the brat had been thowing a tantrum for the past half-hour and our training does not include learning the difference between 'ouch' screaming and 'I don't wanna' screaming.

_As always, Constructive Criticism is appreciated, and flames are laughed at before the over-competitive veela start throwing them at over-competitive leprechauns._

_Thanks, Nat._


	42. The Quidditch World Cup

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter_

_Summary: See previous chapters_

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CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO

Like all sporting events, the Quidditch stadium was noisy and crowded, with an air of competitive excitement and an entry line stretching halfway back across the campsite.

Gazing around, Roisin listened with one ear as Mr. Weasley elaborated on the huge, golden structure to Harry and Hermione. "It seats a hundred thousand! Took a Ministry Task Force of five hundred all year to work on. Muggle-repelling charms over every inch of it."

He went on to elaborate about the Muggle-Repelling Charm, but Roisin's attention was drawn to the huge, majestic structure, though she could only see a small portion of it through the trees. Then they rounded a bend, and Roisin noticed the numerous harried-looking witches and wizards who were attempting to control the swarming spectators.

From the expressions of relief upon the realization that the Weasley group, at least, were not shouting, Roisin couldn't help but feel sympathetic, and smiled at the Ministry witch as she checked their tickets. "Prime Seats! Top Box! Straight up the stairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

* * *

The stairs into the Quidditch Stadium were carpeted in rich purple, which Roisin found both unusual and a waste of good carpet, given that England was only hosting the World Cup this once, and the National Quidditch cup didn't draw so many spectators as to stop them using the regular stadiums. Witches and Wizards flowed in and up the stairs in a steady stream, slowly trickling off to the left or right as they climbed higher.

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, emerging into a small (relatively speaking) box situated exactly between the huge goalposts, filled with about twenty purple-and-gilt chairs. Roisin had been dragged along to football or other games before starting Hogwarts, and Dudley had always demanded the best of seats, which Vernon and Petunia always paid for. None of that, however, could have compared to what Roisin was now experiencing.

As had been repeatedly (and sometimes sulkily) stated, Roisin was not a huge Quidditch fan. Even so, it was impossible not to get caught up in the spirit of the crowds. Apart from the occasional glare or kick to the shins whenever Draco, Ron or Harry looked ready to start something during Hogwarts Games, she tended to take very little part.

Here, however, Roisin couldn't stop gazing in awe at the sheer size of the stadium, her eyes wandering over the crowd to pick out people she knew (with the help of the Omnioculars), and looking at a giant billboard that was advertising various products.

Golden writing dashed across the board, as though a giant, invisible hand were scribbling and then wiping it clear. _'The Bluebottle: a broom for all the family – safe, reliable, and with a built-in anti-burglar buzzer!'… 'Mrs. Skower's magical mess remover; no pain, no stain!'… 'Gladrags Wizardwear – London, Paris, Hogsmeade…'_

Roisin looked away from the billboard to see who else would be sharing the box. So far is was empty, except for a House-Elf dressed in a tea towel, probably saving their master a seat. Harry mistook the elf for the deranged one in their Second Year, which sparked a conversation, as the House-Elf clearly knew Dobby, but was shocked and disapproving of his current behaviour.

The elf went back to minding her Master's seat as Ron quietly asked if all House-Elves were that weird. Roisin smirked at Harry's feverent declaration that Dobby had been weirder and leaned forward, reading Hermione's program over the other witch's shoulder. (Ginny had borrowed Roisin's for a moment, but was sitting on the other side of Fred and George, and was therefore inaccessible.)

_7:30 p.m.: Gates open._

_9:00 p.m.: Start of Quidditch World Cup. "Displays by the team Mascots will preceed the Match"_

"Oh, that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley, overhearing them. "National teams bring mascots from their native land, to put on a bit of a show."

That sounded interesting, for certain. Augerys were far too depressing for a Quidditch Match, but Leprechauns would jump at the chance. If Leprechauns had a flaw, it was their strong 'National Pride' and inability to resist showing off, not to mention that a gathering of this size would be rife with opportunities for the mischief that they thrived on. That still left the question of what Bulgaria would come up with for _their_ mascot…

That occupied Roisin's attention over the next half hour, as the box slowly started to fill up. The mascots would not be something overly violent, but would also need to be something originating in or unique to Bulgaria, which made things tricky, as most potential mascots that she could think of were native to '**_Bulgaria_**, **_X, Y _**_and _**_Z_**'. Roisin was running through possible candidates in her head when she noticed Cornelius Fudge and a richly-dressed man who was almost certainly the Bulgarian Minister of Magic enter the box.

The Minister of Magic was very obviously grandstanding when he tried to sweep over to where Harry was sitting (it came off as more of a waddle), and greeted him in what Fudge probably hoped to be a fatherly fashion.

Roisin carefully watched the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, who seemed to be getting a bit too much enjoyment out of watching Fudge try to mime everything, playing it up by suddenly pointing at things and rattling off what sounded very much like a shopping list. To be fair, it was quite amusing. When she was introduced as an afterthought (Harry was using her in a desperate ploy to get out of the immediate spotlight), she held out her hand, speaking in careful Bulgarian. "So, do you really not understand English, or is it just the entertainment value?"

The Bulgarian Minister looked both delighted and very faintly chagrined that someone had figured him out. "It is very amusing, you must admit. It is our secret, yes?"

Roisin giggled and nodded, then caught sight of Draco and his family entering the box and sighed in resignation. "Your pardon, but it seems that even the best of us are not above schoolyard rivalries. I had best make sure that it does not escalate beyond words."

This was best accomplished by placing herself squarely between the children of the two families, and utilizing her most frequent tactic of glaring when one of them was about to react or provoke a little too strongly. The intimidation effect was greatly bolstered by crossing her legs in such a way that both of the opposing parties could see that she was wearing the steel-tipped, heeled boots that Aiobhe had given her as a late birthday gift.

* * *

Thankfully, immediate hostilities were headed off by the arrival of Ludo Bagman a few minutes later. He rushed into the box. "Sorry, rush to get here. Everyone ready? Minister – ready to go?"

Minister Fudge settled comfortably into his seat, "Ready when you are, Ludo."

Ludo Bagman raised his wand to his throat, whispering '_Sonorus'_, and roared out over the sound of the waiting crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen… Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Roisin cringed slightly as the crowd exploded with noise again. Thousands of flags waved, adding the discordant noise of their national anthems to the racket. The huge billboard stopped advertising Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans (_a risk with every mouthful) _and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. Roisin leaned forward, trying to see what the mascots were, and then winced when Mr. Weasley whipped off his glasses, polishing them on his robes. "Ah, Veela!"

Harry looked slightly confused, and started to ask something, but didn't get past "What – " before a glazed look came over his face as a hundred Veela glided out onto the pitch. Veela were closely related to the Greek Sirens, but lured men through dancing, rather than song, and didn't have a hideous visage to scare their victims back to coherent thought. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were breathtaking, even Roisin would admit that, while trying to fend off jealousy, with luminous fair skin and white-gold hair that fanned out behind them in a non-existent wind.

On one side of Roisin's seat, Draco wore a deeply pensive expression that Roisin recognized all too well. Draco wore that look whenever he was about to do something stupid, reckless and/or ill-advised in a bid for attention or an attempt to show off. It usually resulted in lost points. Luckily for all concerned, Mr. Malfoy had been focusing entirely on his wife's face in an attempt to ignore the Veela, but was paying just enough attention to his surroundings to notice his son's reaction, joining Roisin in placing a firm hand on one of Draco's shoulders to keep him seated.

At the same time, Roisin could hear Hermione's exasperated "Harry, what are you doing? _Honestly!_"

Roisin glanced back over onto her other side to see Harry looking like he was about to jump off the box and into the stadium, before Hermione reached up and hauled him back down. The Bulgarian Minister for Magic opened his eyes, having taken only a small step forward, and looked around the box, his face highly amused.

Recovering himself and glancing around the box to make sure that no-one who 'mattered' had noticed his behaviour, Draco opened his mouth, probably to comment on the general reaction to the Veela and how Malfoys would never behave in such an uncouth manner, despite the fact that he had been doing the exact same thing less than two minutes ago. He quickly fell silent again when Roisin sent him a look that promised pain and shifted her foot slightly; He was all too familiar with the movement, and the accompanying look. Returning her attention to the pitch, Roisin reminded herself to thank Aoibhe again for the boots. They really were a remarkably effective deterrent.

Next to Hermione, Ron was absently shredding the shamrock pinned to his shirt. Mr. Weasley leaned over, plucking it out of his hands, also looking rather amused. "You'll be wanting that, once Ireland have had their say."

The Veela lined up on one side of the stands, and attention was promptly drawn back to Ludo Bagman as his voice echoed across the stands again. "And now… kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Roisin burst into cheers as a great green-and-gold comet shot into the stadium. It zoomed in a full circuit, and then separated into two smaller comets, a beautiful rainbow arching to connect the two. Then, the comets merged and changed shape into a huge, sparkling shamrock, with a shower of what seemed like golden rain… Oh.

The golden rain was, in fact, golden coins that people were suddenly yelling and fighting to grab. Roisin couldn't help rolling her eyes; Leprechaun Gold vanished back to its owners in a few hours, but she still didn't see how so many people could be fooled. A Quidditch Team, even a National one, didn't make enough that they could distribute even one galleon for each of the one hundred thousand people present, much less the amount that was still falling. Was she the only one who found that totally obvious?

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"

A figure in scarlet Quidditch robes, flying so fast that it blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, greeted by wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters. Ludo Bagman's voice rang out again. "Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed figure zoomed out. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaand Krum!"

Four more scarlet flyers zoomed out, and there was a few seconds' pause before the Seeker, Victor Krum, made his dramatic entrance. He was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, and it was hard to believe that he was only eighteen. He rose high above his team-mates, bearing a great resemblance to an over-grown bird of prey. Roisin was drawn out of her study of the Seeker by Draco's quiet tone. "Aren't you with Blaise? Stop oogling the seeker, Roisin."

Roisin directed a dark look toward the Malfoy Heir. "Is oogling even a word, Draco. Besides, I'm dating, not blind."

Out of the corner of her eye, Roisin caught Mrs. Malfoy's lips quirk into a small smile, before everyone's attention was drawn to the other side of the pitch. "And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand – Lynch!"

Again, there was a slight pause between the first six players and the seeker as the Irish Team, clad in brilliant emerald Quidditch Robes, flew out onto the pitch.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chair wizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, totally bald and with a moustache to rival even Vernon Dursley's, wearing robes of pure gold, strode onto the pitch, a wooden box under one arm, broomstick under the other, and a silver whistle barely producing from underneath the huge moustache. The referee mounted his broomstick and kicked the box open, the four Quidditch balls shooting into the air. Focussing her omnioculars, Roisin caught sight of the snitch for a few seconds before it vanished. With a sharp whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"They're off!" screamed Bagman, "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

While Roisin seldom went to even school Quidditch Matches, she had witnessed some spectacular flying, especially when visiting the O'Conner Keep over a summer holiday. This, however, was Quidditch on a whole new level. You could barely see the Quaffle as it soared between players, so quickly that Bagman had no time to do more than call out their names, and the players were no more than brightly coloured blurs.

Suddenly, Troy broke out of the tangle of Chasers, managed to get past Keeper Zograf, and scored the first goal of the match. The crowd exploded into cheers as Troy flew a triumph lap around the stadium, Irish supporters jumping up and down as they screamed and waved their arms. Even the normally refined Malfoy family were cheering loudly. Down on the sidelines, the Leprechauns had risen into the air again, forming a great, shimmering shamrock, while the Veela watched them sulkily.

The Irish chasers were superb, working in seamless unison, and seeming to almost read each other's minds as they positioned themselves. They managed to score twice more within the next ten minutes, bringing the score up to thirty – zero, much to the delight of the Irish fans.

The match somehow became even faster, and definitely more brutal. The Bulgarian Beaters, Vulchanov and Volkov, were whacking the Bludgers as fast as possible toward the Irish Chasers, and were starting to break up some of their plays. The Irish were forced to scatter twice, and finally Ivanova managed to break through their ranks, dodge the Keeper, Ryan, and score Bulgaria's first goal. The scarlet-clad supporters went wild, and the Veela rose to their feet, shooting evil looks at the Leprechauns, who had been acting very smug thus far.

Say what you would about Vernon and Petunia Dursley (as Roisin often did), they both had very penetrating voices. Though usually soft-spoken, Roisin had grown up with plenty of opportunities to witness and imitate her parents shouting. Therefore, as the Veela started to dance again, she copied Mr. Weasley's shout to cover their ears. When Vernon Dursley (or someone imitating him) bellowed, people listened (admittedly just to make him shut up, for the most part, but that was beside the point), so the reaction to the Veela in the top box, and even a few surrounding boxes, was much less drastic than in other areas as people instantly obeyed.

After a few moments, they stopped, and Bulgaria was once again in possession of the Quaffle. "Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova – Oh, I say!"

One hundred thousand witches and wizards rose to their feet as Krum and Lynch suddenly went into a dive so steep that it looked as though they had jumped from an aeroplane without benefit of a parachute. Beside her, Harry seemed to be following the Seekers' trajectory, looking for the snitch. On Harry's other side, Hermione had gone totally white, "They're going to crash!"

She was only half correct, as Krum pulled out of the dive at the last second, but Lynch ploughed into the ground of the Quidditch Pitch. Roisin winced at the long furrow of upturned grass, visible from even the Top Box. Mrs. Malfoy had abandoned all restraint and was practically hanging over the side of the box as she tried to see what was going on.

"It's time out!" Ludo Bagman's voice yelled, "As trained medi-wizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Seeker Lynch!"

Magical medicine worked wonders, and Lynch was soon back on his feet, to the roars of joy from the Irish Supporters. This seemed to give the Irish National Team new heart, as they moved up to a level of skill unparalleled by anything Roisin had seen thus far. In only fifteen minutes, they had scored another ten times, bringing the score to one hundred thirty – ten in Ireland's favour.

But the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the Bulgarian goalposts yet again, the Bulgarian Keeper flew out to meet her, and while Roisin couldn't see what happened next, Mostafa's whistle and the roar of disapproval from the Irish fans indicated a foul. This was confirmed by Bagman's commentary, "And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbling – excessive use of elbows! And – yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The Leprechauns had risen angrily into the air when Mullet had been fouled, and were now flying into their own formation, spelling out 'HA HA HA!'. The Veela were not impressed, and leapt to their feet, tossing their hair angrily as they started to dance again. The males in the box closed their eyes and covered their ears, but Roisin joined Hermione in a torrent of giggles as she caught Mrs. Malfoy's eye and pointed out the referee. Mrs. Malfoy's silvery laugh added to their amusement, watching as the referee landed next to the Veela, stroking his moustache and flexing his non-existent muscles excitedly.

Ludo Bagman sounded nearly as amused as the spectators. "Oh, now we can't have that! Somebody slap the referee!"

A medi-wizard came tearing across the pitch, hands firmly over his ears and eyes fixed on the ground, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa looked beyond embarrassed, and started shouting at the Veela, who had stopped dancing and were now looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually trying to send off the Bulgarian National Mascots!" came Ludo Bagman's voice. "Now that's something we've never seen before! Oh, look out – this could get nasty…"

He was right, as Volkov and Vulchanov flew down to land next to the referee, clearly arguing with him, gesturing toward the Leprechauns, who were cheerfully forming the words 'HEE HEE HEE!'. Mostafa was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"_Two_ penalties to Ireland!" Bagman shouted, "and Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… they're in the air… and Troy takes the Quaffle!"

Play now reached a level that verged on open warfare. The beaters were without mercy: the Bulgarians in particular not seeming to care if their bats connected with Iron Ball or Human Flesh. Dimitrov flew straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom, to loud cries of _"FOUL!"_ from the spectators.

"And Dimitrov skins Moran – deliberately flying to collide there. And it's got to be another penalty… yes, there's the whistle!"

A few seats away, Narcissa Malfoy drew a sharp breath. "Oh, no, please don't provoke them…"

Curious as to the cause of that statement, Roisin followed her gaze to where the Leprechauns were rising into the air again. Instead of mildly provocative words, however, they now formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude gesture across the pitch. The Veela lost control, launching themselves across the pitch and throwing handfuls of fire at the Leprechauns. They had also stopped resembling beautiful women. Their faces were changing into cruel, raptor-like beaks, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders.

The Leprechauns were not taking this lying down, and were fighting the enraged Veela with their blackthorn shillelaghs, both species totally ignoring the Ministry wizards who were attempting to break up the fight. But as vicious as the battle between the Veela and Leprechaun was, it was nothing in comparison to the one raging high above them.

The Quaffle was flying between players with the speed of a bullet. "Levski – Dimitrov – Moran – Troy – Mullet – Ivanova – Moran again – Moran – MORAN SCORES!"

The cheers of the Irish supporters were drowned out by the shrieks of the Veela, the jeers of the Leprechauns, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry member's wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarian crowds. Things had gone far out of hand, and Roisin suddenly remembered why she avoided large sporting events.

Quigley swung heavily at a passing bludger, hitting it as hard as possible toward Krum, who didn't duck quite fast enough. From the force with which it smashed into the Seeker's face, Roisin was betting on a broken nose, and if the deafening groan from the crowd was taken into account, they agreed. There was blood everywhere, but Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He was understandably distracted, as one of the Veela had thrown a handful of fire, setting the tail of his broom alight.

Seconds later, Roisin nearly fell out of the box as Harry yelled, barely inches away from her hear "_Look at Lynch!_"

The Irish Seeker had gone into a dive, and this one looked like the real thing. Roisin cringed as her cousin continued yelling, "He's seen the snitch! He's seen it! Look at him go!"

At least half of the crowd had also noticed, as the Irish Supporters leaped to their feet and a massive wave of green, urging their seeker on… but now Viktor Krum was on his tail. How the Bulgarian was still flying through the pain and blood of a broken nose, Roisin had no idea, but Krum was slowly drawing level with Lynch, as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground –

"They're going to crash!"

"They're not!"

"Lynch is!"

The last was from Harry again, and he was right. Krum pulled out, rising gently into the air with a fist raised, a glint of gold barely visible. Lynch had not fared so well, crashing into the ground for a second time, where he was promptly trampled by the horde of angry Veela.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY – IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY across the crowd, the majority of whom didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, the rumble from the Irish Supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WIN!" Shouted Bagman, who, much like the Irish, seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden end of the game. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WIN – good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

Harry and Ron were shouting something as they cheered and applauded, but Roisin paid them no mind, shrieking with joy as she jumped up and down, simultaneously trying to fend off Draco, who was completely oblivious to who he was hugging in delight as he screamed the Irish victory.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, and '_Amhrán na bhFiann_' resonated over the stadium as the Irish players danced in a shower of gold. The Veela were shrinking back into their former, beautiful form, though they now looked dispirited and forlorn.

The box finally settled down enough for Draco to notice Roisin's near-lethal expression, quickly releasing her, and for everyone to hear a gloomy voice from the back of the stands. "Vell, ve fought bravely."

Roisin would treasure the memory of Fudge's expression for a very long time. "You can speak English!" his voice was outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

The Bulgarian Minister for Magic shrugged, his expression brightening slightly. "Vell, it vos very funny."

Fudge's reply was drowned out by Ludo Bagman, who was still commentating. "And as the Irish team perform a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!"

Roisin was suddenly dazzled by both the sudden spotlight, and the vast golden cup that two panting wizards carried into the box, handing it to a still-disgruntled Cornelius Fudge. Bagman wasn't finished, "Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!"

One by one, the Bulgarian players filed into the Top Box, shaking hands with first their own Minister, and then with Fudge, as Bagman called out their names. Krum still held the snitch, but he definitely did not look his best, with a bloody face and the beginnings of two spectacular black eyes, but the crowd still gave him a resounding, ear-splitting roar when his name was called.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch looked dazed, his eyes slightly unfocused as he was supported by Moran and Connolly. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered their approval. Roisin wasn't sure if she would be able to use her hands for several hours, they were so numb with clapping.

The Irish team leaped onto their brooms to perform a final victory lap, and the crowd began to break up. Mrs. Malfoy slid past her husband, who appeared to be soothing Fudge into a presentable mood, and approached Roisin. "Fudge needs to learn to read body language. Most of the box knew that the Bulgarian Minister was just toying with him."

Roisin gave the older woman a mock-innocent look, noting that she really was quite lovely when she wasn't sneering at people, then gave up and laughed quietly. "But where would be the fun in that?"

Dodging the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry, she gathered her belongings, making a mental note to lend the Omnioculars to the various kin who had been unable to attend, and practically skipped off to find the rest of her family.

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A/N: Yes, I know that it's been far too long since I updated. No excuses except writer's block, and looking for work, since Target over-hired and no longer need so many Casual workers, and while invigilating pays well, it only occurs about three or four times a month, which is not really enough to live on.

_As always, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated, and if you have any questions, either log in or leave some way for me to reply and answer them, since ff.n frowns on using document space for review replies._

_Thanks, Nat._


	43. Night of Terror

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Curse FF.N for making me write this every single chapter!_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

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CHAPTER 43

The Irish Campsite was one big party by the time Roisin managed to track down her family.

People were shooting off fireworks, soda and Butterbeer were being passed around among the underage, and Firewhisky flowed with everyone old enough not to be arrested for underage drinking. Roisin laughed as she was ambushed by Dean and Seamus Finnegan, who promptly dragged her over to where some of the teenaged fans had started up an impromptu dance.

A short way off, Aiden and Oliver Wood were involved in a blow-by-blow verbal replay of the match, the underlying tactics, and how it could have been done differently. Further away from them, several men around Fionna's age had started up a very loud and very bawdy drinking song.

Spinning around the circle as she changed partners, Roisin barely avoiding tripping over Mary, ducked a cackling leprechaun as it zoomed overhead, nearly braining Michael with its lantern, and laughed again. This had to be one of the best nights of her life.

She wasn't sure how many hours had passed before a tired-looking group of Ministry Personnel showed up and started trying to convince the Irish Revellers that they needed to stop celebrating and settle down for the night. A fair portion of the Irish Fans saw the wisdom in this and started ushering tired or already asleep children off to bed.

There were always some, however, who had indulged in a bit too much liquid courage, and tried to argue the point. Things were just getting heated when a loud explosion and even louder screaming drew everyone's attention to the general direction of one of the campsite manager's house, where a large group of people in black cloaks and white masks were marching.

The loud explosion seemed to have been someone blowing the house's front door down, and four figures, two adults and two children, floated high into the air above the white-masked crowd. They continued their march through the campsites, blowing down any tents that got in their way, and setting others on fire. From the screams, Roisin could make an educated guess that most of those tents had been occupied at the time.

* * *

It was like looking at a train-wreck, and Roisin could do nothing but stare in horror, nearly going into shock, until a sharp slap brought her out of it. Fionna shook her grand-daughter for a second, gaining her attention. "Get your cousins and hide in the woods. Don't trust anyone that can't provide some proof that they are who they say they are, Death Eaters can be sneaky. We'll come and get you when it's safe."

Roisin felt herself go completely white. "What about you, Nana?"

Fionna smiled grimly. "I've fought Death Eaters before, and I'm not as helpless as a family of Muggles. Now get moving!"

Trying to ignore the screams, Roisin kept her arm firmly around Erin as she hurried her cousins away from the panicking crowds and into the woods. Her wand was held tightly in her other hand. A black robe with a white mask tried to grab them, but thankfully missed. Barely even thinking, Roisin hit them with a blasting curse and the foursome ran.

A still-burning tent fell in front of them. Roisin blew it out of the way. Already tired from the Quidditch After-party, Erin was starting to falter by now as they ran faster. Roisin cast a lightening charm and lifted her up, aided by pure adrenaline. Mary looked worried. "What about the laws about underage magic? You'll be expelled!"

They had reached the woods and Roisin ducked under a branch. "Then I'll use my trust fund to hire a tutor for home-schooling! Either way, I'd like to be alive to do so!"

They stopped beneath a large tree, huddling between the producing roots. Catching his breath, Seamus added, "Besides, with all the magic going on tonight, I doubt that anyone will be worried about a few spells in self-defense. _Reasonable Restriction_, after all."

A group of the white masks finally got bored watching the four Muggles being turned into marionettes sixty feet in the air, and started wandering toward the woods. Erin was crying softly, absolutely terrified, and Roisin tried desperately to sooth her, not wanting to draw attention. She was unsuccessful, as one of them caught sight of the little group. "Hey, guys, look over here! We have more puppets to play with!"

Their hiding place discovered, Roisin took him down with a Blasting Hex, which hit the black-robed figure with concussive force, while Seamus and Mary fired off several Jelly-Legs jinxes. Throwing Erin onto her back, Roisin led the way further into the woods. A glance behind them showed that the shouting and spell-work had drawn attention, and more Ministry workers were headed their way. Still, that didn't mean that they were going to sit around and be caught in the middle of a fire-fight.

Finding another hiding spot, a hollow between several large rocks, deeper in the woods, Roisin shoved Erin into her cousins' arms and started to draw a sequence of large, glowing runes in mid-air. The O'Conner library contained several books on rune-magic, and Roisin had been reading up on basic protective runes, determined to master at least one before the new Hogwarts Year started.

She wasn't very good yet, but she was good enough to cheat spectacularly in games of Hide And Seek. On top of that, necessity and fear for ones life were powerful motivators, and it was doubtful that the Death Eaters were looking for them in particular.

Finishing the sequences for obscurity, silence and protection, along with limiting parameters (she wanted their family to be able to find them, after all), Roisin crouched down next to her cousins, putting her arms around them as she tried to conceal her own trembling, praying to all of the gods that might be listening, that they might survive this horrible night.

* * *

They had no way of keeping time as people of all ages and species ran past their hiding place. The twins could not stop trembling, and Erin was beyond the ability to speak, or make noise of any kind. This turned out to be a blessing, when a shout of "MORSMORDRE!" echoed through the woods. Roisin clamped her hands over Mary and Seamus's mouths, nearly biting through her own lip in order not to scream as thousands of emerald lights, forming the image of a huge, glowing green skull, a snake coming out of its mouth appeared in the night sky.

Even so far away, the sound of hundreds of people hastily Apparating away could be heard, and moments later, spellfire erupted in the general area of where the Dark Mark had been cast. The shouting in that direction was indistinguishable, but it didn't matter as much as it should have, as they could hear the sound of running footsteps, and then Aiden, Fionna, Michael and Nessa appeared, calling for them.

Aiden had a nasty cut on his forehead, while Michael was sporting the beginnings of a spectacular bruise over half of his face. Nessa looked distinctly smoke-stained, with a streek of ash over one cheek, and Fionna's robes were singed, though she appeared otherwise unharmed. Roisin quickly dispelled the runes and stood up, somehow holding her wand steady as she aimed it at them, making her voice as cold and threatening as possible. "Prove that you're you!"

Fionna held up her hands in a placating gesture. "You were born on March 21st, 1980, and you were just under a year and a half old when you performed your first accidental magic by animating your dolls. Do you need us to swear a magical oath that we are Michael, Nessa, Aiden and Fionna O'Conner?"

That did it. The fear and pure adrenaline that had kept her going all night abruptly drained out of Roisin's body, causing her to burst into tears as she sheathed her wand and threw herself into her grandmother's arms, unable to stop shaking. Fionna rocked her as though she were a small child again, waiting until Roisin had calmed slightly before activating her personalized portkey.

Screw Ministry Portkeys; they were not waiting around here until the Ministry got things under control and started to regulate magical traffic. They were going home.

* * *

Roisin spent most of the following day in her bedroom, mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. She spent most of the day curled up under her covers, and jumping at loud noises. The two days after that were spent convincing Nessa, Fionna and numerous other worried parents that they had to leave the Keep at some point, while Owls flew thick and fast, carrying letters to and from friends, detailing how they had spent the night of terror, what was being done about it back in England, and what was currently happening at their homes.

Thanks to the _Daily Prophet_ and the various rumour mills, everyone knew what had happened, so Roisin was bombarded with letters from everyone she knew, even if they hadn't been there. Of course, the _Daily Prophet_ article didn't do anything to calm the hearsay and rampant hysteria. Desdemona had forwarded the main articles, which read as such:

**_SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!_**

_Yesterday, Witches and Wizards everywhere celebrated Ireland's win of the Quidditch World Cup, but cheers quickly turned to screams in one of England's greatest Ministry Blunders to date._

_The Quidditch World Cup was supposed to be a chance to show off our great nation to the rest of the world's Magical populace, to demonstrate not only the prowess of our Irish Cousins, but also to impress the great feats that we are capable of when we work together._

_Instead, our foreign friends went home with memories of our great failure, as the culprits behind the attack remain not apprehended, thanks to the slow response of an already lax security detail._

_Congratulations must be awarded to our Ministry of Magic, for allowing this great event to be remembered not for spectacular sportsmanship, fantastic feats of magical craftsmanship or promotion of national pride, but for Dark Wizards running amuck and national disgrace._

The other article was not quite as strongly worded, but was still very impressive in its derision.

**_THIRTEEN YEARS OF PEACE SHATTERED! DARK MARK REAPPEARS!_**

_A certain amount of rowdiness is expected at any national event, but last nights actions cast an even larger shadow. _

_Crowds of people dressed in black robes and white masks spent the night torturing a family of innocent Muggles and causing countless damage to other Witches and Wizards, leaving not when our Ministry Employees showed up, but when the well-known and well-feared Dark Mark appeared in the sky above the nearby wood, a sight not seen since the defeat of You-Know-Who thirteen years ago._

_If the terrified Witches and Wizards who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that no one had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen._

The last sentence had the extra effect of not only ensuring that there would be even more rumours of death and injury than before, but also a major setback in the argument against long-term confinement until the culprits were found. What should have been a several-hour debate on how long before Roisin and her cousins quickly turned into a two-day battle against Nessa's conviction that the children needed to be locked in a dragon-guarded ivory tower for the rest of their natural lives. As the only way to keep them safe, naturally.

Even the _Quibbler _had taken a break from their usual speculation about conspiricies and rare creatures that few people had ever heard of. Ironically, the article that Luna had sent her was far more solid than the ones in the _Daily Prophet_. Instead, the _Quibbler _contained facts, eyewitness accounts, and a promise of more details as they appeared. After Luna's usual rambling style of writting came an unusually straightforward Post-Script asking if Roisin would mind sending her own account. After a quick consideration, Roisin did so, along with a few statistics that the Irish Ministry had managed to get hold of.  
When Luna made such straightforward statements, without mention of a conspiricy or Snorkack, you knew things were dire.

Roisin's correspondence after receiving the articles went on to include promises to set up a Hogwarts Shopping date as soon as the annual Hogwarts letters arrived, or as soon as their parents let them out of the house, which ever came first.

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_A/N: Feverent apologies but no real excuse for the long period between updates. Writer's block, looking for work and this year's tax statements are not a good combination for writing. This chapter is shorter than usual, mostly because I had to split it into two parts for better reading. The next part will be up as soon as possible, but might take as long as a week, because my sister's computer broke and she is borrowing mine for her Uni. assignments._

_As always, constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames are laughed at and saved up to ignite the Goblet of Fire._

_Thanks, Nat._


	44. Busy Summer and Back to Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR**

The events after the Quidditch World Cup had everyone shaken up, so it was with great relief that the Slytherin Fourth Years banded together for their yearly Diagon Alley visit. Managing to ditch her cousins with Fionna and some of their own friends, Roisin met up with her year and set off down the lane.

It was mostly refills for potion supplies, parchment and ink, and, of course, the books that they would need for the year. Roisin, Theo, Millicent and Blaise had gone through a recent growth spurt, so a quick trip to Madam Malkin's for newly sized school robes was in order.

The Hogwarts letter for this year had included 'Dress Robes', which had lead to wondering what they would be for, and Madam Malkin was stocking a large selection.

Wizarding Dress Robes looked very much like simply a fancier version of the everyday robes worn by adult wizards. Witch Dress Robes, on the other hand, Roisin thought looked very much like the gowns worn by upper-class and noblewomen, from Medieval to Victorian era.

The store was overflowing with other students trying on dress robes, however, so they chose not to stay after getting their uniforms. Besides, as Nessa back in Ireland had said, "Off-the-rack clothing is never as good as ones made by family. Our ancestors wove and sewed their own clothing before clothes shops were invented. There is no need to settle for less when better can be made with One's own hands."

This had been said after a good long rant about inferior quality and how an O'Conner must always present a good front and things had reached the point where everyone was willing to just smile and agree and make a run for it, regardless of the fact that Nessa had presented a perfectly valid point.

Seeing her finished Dress Robes, Roisin had to agree. Much like a 12th-Century noblewoman's gown in appearance, the gown carried a touch of Home, much more than anything out of a shop.

Luna also came to visit, the first of her friends to actually come to the O'Conner Keep. Admittedly, her first visit was for personal interviews on what had happened at the Quidditch world cup, both for everyone's opinions on both the match, (whether seen in person or by Omniocular Recording) and what had happened afterward.

The second visit was two friends catching up and a hunt for the Three-fold Cup of Wonders, in which they were enthusiastically joined by Erin and several younger children. The adults were thoroughly bemused by Luna and her conviction of the existence of creatures that no one had heard of, but appreciated her determination to be herself. A few of the older Clan members had been heard speculating that Luna might have been descended from a faerie changeling.

Given Luna's gift for insight, which usually only made sense after the fact, and the fact that the Lovegoods had always been described as a bit odd, Roisin could see their reasoning, even if she didn't agree. Luna had only smiled and said that people made their own explanations for odd happenings, like when one of her ancestors had been weighed against a duck for being a witch when a neighbour had discovered his Animagus form was a newt and been caught changing back.

Raised as a muggle, Roisin had often watched Monty Python at a friend's house, and that tale just begged for a reference quote. Roisin managed to maintain her composure long enough to ask, "So, he got better, then?" before collapsing in laughter.

Luna smiled again. "Oh, hush, or I'll bite your legs off."

* * *

There was a definite end-of-summer gloom hanging around on the few days before they returned to Hogwarts. Three days before the beginning of term, the Slytherins were once again gathered together at Desdemona's house, supposedly to finish up and compare assignments, but truthfully because they were in the middle of learning the charm to reveal a person's Animagus form, and Draco was on the verge of hearing out his 'high-maintenance' hair if he had to try and walk Greg and Vince through it on his own.

Roisin took pity on him, and organized a group lesson. It was a well-known secret that students from households where magic was regularly used could usually get away with performing the occasional spell, as proven by the equivalent of a magical paintball fight several weeks back, just after they had finished the Animagus potion and Desdemona's parents came to investigate the source of whatever chaos resulted from their daughter being quiet for so long.

This visit was not nearly as much fun, as it didn't take long for the other Slytherins to join Draco's stance on the matter, and find excuses to be doing something else, leaving Roisin to patiently instruct the Trollish Twosome in the spell by the complex, sophisticated and well-planned method of repeating the instructions over and over again until they got it.

* * *

The last night at the O'Conner Keep was marked by a howling storm, one more than likely to make its way to Scotland by the next night. Finally abandoning all hope of sleep a few hours before dawn, Roisin dozed through breakfast and forewent all hope of an upright landing when they Portkeyed to King's Cross.

Luckily, Portkey Traffic meant that they arrived at 9:10 in the morning, which gave Roisin and her cousins their choice of compartment. After helping Mary and Seamus wrestle their trunks into the overhead storage, Roisin chose her own compartment, Levitated her trunk onto the overhead rack, and then curled up on one of the benches, closing her eyes for a quick nap. There was still nearly two hours before the train left, and her friends always cut their arrival very close…

Roisin awoke with a jolt when the door slammed open, nearly falling off of her bench.

Muzzily throwing a hex in the direction of whoever had entered so rudely, Roisin sat up and looked around the compartment, blinking sleep out of her eyes. The door being slammed had been Draco, who had ceased to loudly complain about 'Bloody Potter and his bloody friends' and had moved on to loudly complaining about 'witches and their hair-trigger spell casting' as he countered the Jelly-Legs Jinx and picked himself up from the floor.

Ignoring him with the ease of long practice, Roisin continued gathering her bearings. On the opposite bench, Pansy was trying to interest Millicent in what looked like the latest edition of _Teen Witch_, while Millicent was focused on her sketchbook. On Roisin's own bench, she found that she had slept through her friends being nice enough to maneuver around her. Her legs were currently draped over Desdemona's lap, being used as a stand for '_The Legends of King Arthur'_, while her head rested on Blaise's knee, where he had been running his fingers through her unbound hair.

Resisting the urge to lie back down and let the rocking of the train lull her back to sleep, Roisin managed to stifle a very unladylike yawn. "Hello, everyone. What time is it?"

Blaise let go of her long enough for Roisin to sit up, and then draped his arm around her shoulders and resumed playing with her hair. "About half-twelve, I think, so the Lunch Cart should be coming around soon. We would have woken you, but you looked pretty wiped out."

As if on cue, the lady with the trolley chose that moment to look through the still-open compartment door. Selecting a few sandwiches, a cauldron cake and a Butterbeer, Roisin paid and answered the unspoken question. "Bloody great storm kept me up all night. Probably keep us up most of tonight, too, if the weather forecast is right."

Desdemona spoke through a mouthful of Pumpkin Pastie. "'Uvery. 'Ow 'as 'ur 'ast 'eek?"

Roisin frowned, trying to translate. "Chew and swallow, Desi, are you five? The last week of holidays was fine, thank you, and any amount of time with Luna is always entertaining. How were yours?"

Desdemona finished her mouthful, and was about to reply when Draco reached the limit of how long he could remain out of the center of attention. "Father told me some very interesting news from the Ministry this morning."

He paused dramatically, clearly waiting for them to attentively beg for details. Since Draco's definition of 'Interesting News From The Ministry' ranged from office gossip to the quality of exported cauldrons, he was doomed to disappointment. Pansy had managed to drag the other girls into a discussion about Dress Robes and why they would be needed this year, while Blaise offered a distracted "That's nice, Draco. What do you think this year's Defense Teacher will be like?"

Looking highly affronted, Draco declined to answer, and sulked for a several minutes before deciding that holding people in suspense only worked when they were actually paying attention to what you were saying, and finished his announcement anyway. "The Triwizard Tournament is going to be hosted by Hogwarts this year!"

This caught everyone's attention. Desdemona, cut off in mid-description of her robes, was the first to react. "– and with bronze – the Triwizard Tournament? At Hogwarts?"

Blaise was a little more skeptical. "Are you sure? I thought that they stopped holding that a few centuries ago. 'Mortality rate reaching unacceptable levels' or some such reason."

Draco shrugged. "That's what Father said. Apparently they're giving it another go, adding extra safety measures and re-defining what is 'too dangerous'. That sort of thing."

Millicent looked relieved. "Considering that the last Triwizard Tournament ended with all 'Last One Standing' default win in the second task, and all three school heads injured, along with most of the spectators, extra safety measures are a very good thing. My parents would probably pull me from Hogwarts, else."

Roisin nodded in profound agreement. "My family, too, although there would definitely be a few Howlers involved. Nana likes to make her opinions known about anything that results in threats to my physical well-being."

Most of Hogwarts had been given a first-hand observation of this fact two years ago, when Roisin had been numbered amongst the students Petrified by a Basilisk. It was a widely-held opinion that the Petrified victims had been the lucky ones, as they had been spared Fionna's wrath.

* * *

Roisin's prediction about the weather had proved correct, as the sky outside grew steadily greyer, until you couldn't be sure what was deepening twilight and what was dark storm clouds. The four girls had kicked out their male companions and were half-way through changing into their school robed when a flash of lightning turned the sky as bright as day, causing Pansy to shriek in surprise, closely followed by a clap of thunder that rattled the windows, though the sound-proof charms held.

Things got worse when the rattle caused Desdemona's open trunk to topple from its already-precarious position on the bench and onto her foot, prompting another yell. Drawn by the commotion, the returning Slytherin boys came running, countered the locking charm, and threw the door open.

Currently shirtless, Desdemona screamed and tried to hide behind Millicent, who was already dressed, and stumbled from Desdemona's weight as she fixed the boys with her best glare. Pansy, with only the top half of her uniform on, hastily yanked her robes over her head. Roisin, clad in only her underwear, wound up giving the four boys a magnificent eyeful (according to a few other students already in the vicinity, who were promptly hexed in belated defense of the girls' honour) as she lunged for the compartment door, slamming it shut.

The door remained shut until they reached the Hogwarts station, at which point the girls remained in their compartment until most of the students were gone, before peeking out into the hallway. The coast was more or less clear, and they needed to hurry if they didn't want to walk to Hogwarts.

Wrapping their cloaks tightly around them and swiftly applying several water-proofing charms, the four girls ran out of the train, making a bee-line for the horseless carriages. Even with the charms, they were still drenched by the time they reached the platform, as the rain was now coming down so heavily that it seemed like bucket after bucket of ice-cold water was being poured directly onto their heads.

The boys were waiting in one of the carriages closest to the station and Vincent held open the door as they ran up, slamming it closed behind them as the carriage began to move. Desperately casting about for a topic of conversation that wouldn't result in anyone dying of embarrassment, Theo pointed to where the last of the new First Years were disappearing down a trail that lead to the edge of the lake. "The poor little sods. Can you imagine crossing the lake in this weather?"

Even if she could, Roisin didn't want to, and the carriage was filled with sympathetic murmurs of agreement as it lurched its way toward Hogwarts.

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_A/N: This chapter was supposed to be posted several days ago, but the power cord for my laptop was damaged, so I was without internet or even computer access until yesterday, at which point I had to rush to catch up on a number of assignments._

_Anyway, the new chapter is up now, so business as usual. As always, constructive criticism is much appreciated, but flames are laughed at, and then used to dry off after the downpour._

_Thanks, Nat._


	45. The Sorting and The Challenge

_Disclaimer: Does it look like I own Harry Potter? Didn't think so._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Blaise and Draco still couldn't look at their respective girlfriends without blushing, while the other three boys carefully didn't meet their eyes. Millicent was fine, but Pansy and Desdemona were very obviously wishing the ground would open up and swallow them.

Roisin was no less mortified, but refused to let it show, hexing the first several people to make a wolf-whistle or cat-call with Jelly-Legs (see them get anywhere wobbling around on an already wet and slippery floor!), and busying herself with a drying charm, just in time to get re-soaked by Peeves, who was zooming around the Great Hall, armed with water balloons.

The Slytherins made a dash for the door into the Great Hall, but only Pansy and Desdemona made it inside before the others narrowly missed slamming into Professor McGonagall. "PEEVES! Get down here AT ONCE!"

Even Greg knew that colliding with the stern Professor would be a bad thing, and skidded to a halt. The Deputy Headmistress had barely passed him, promptly slipping on the wet floor and grabbing onto Hermione, when Vince also lost his balance, grabbing onto Millicent as he crashed into Greg, taking them both down. Roisin and Theo grabbed for something a bit more solid, catching onto a wall sconce, and pulling themselves out of the way of Draco and Blaise, who skidded to a halt not quite fast enough and added themselves to the pile.

The Great Hall looked it's usual magnificent self, with the soft light of a thousand floating candles reflecting off the golden plates and goblets. The House tables were filling up with chattering students, sternly watched by the Professors at the staff table, and it was much, much warmer. Blessing a wide variety of saints that the Slytherin table was at the edge and therefore close to the fire, Roisin sat down and looked around.

The Fourth-Year Slytherins were clearly not the only ones nursing bruises caused by Peeves and a lack of 'Wet Floor' signs, and everyone who knew the spell could be seen distributing Drying Charms like candy on Halloween. Theo had been right in his prediction about the First-Years, as they literally dripped into the Great Hall. One mousey-haired boy appeared to have actually fallen into the lake, though his fellows didn't look much better.

Roisin frowned at their bedraggled appearance. "All of the teachers are here. Couldn't someone have gone to meet the poor things with Drying Charms or something? Madam Pomfrey is going to run out an entire stock of Pepper-Up Potions if the poor things have to stand around, soaked to the skin, all through dinner."

Millicent hushed her. "We'll take care of the ones who end up in Slytherin, and hope that the other Houses have the sense to do the same. Now Shh, they're about to start the Sorting."

The excited and/or nervous whispering had died down, and the rip that served as the Sorting Hat's mouth opened wide.

"_A thousand years or more ago,  
__When I was newly sewn,  
__There lived four wizards of renown,  
__Whose names are still well-known._

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
__Fair Ravenclaw, from glen.  
__Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
__Shrewd Slytherin, from fen,_

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
__They hatched a daring plan,  
__To educate young sorcerers,  
__Thus Hogwarts School began!_

_Now each of these four founders  
__Formed their own House, for each  
__Did value different virtues  
__In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
__Prized far beyond the rest.  
__For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
__Would always be the best._

_To Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
__Most worthy of admission.  
__While power-hungry Slytherin  
__Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide,  
__Their favourites from the throng.  
__But how to pick the worthy ones  
__When they were dead and gone?_

'_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
__He whipped me off his head.  
__Those founders put some brains in me,  
__So I could choose instead!_

_So slip me snug about your ears,  
__I've never yet been wrong,  
__I'll have a look inside your mind,  
__And tell where you belong."_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished and bowed to each of the four tables. Some of the First Years looked a little less nervous.

Ackerly, Stewart was the first to be called, and promptly sorted into Ravenclaw. Next came the first new Slytherin, Malcolm Baddock. Draco leaned over to welcome him, as Pansy kindly offered a Drying Charm. The drenched boy looked at her as though she were a minor goddess. Branstone, Eleanor and Cauldwell, Owen both went to Hufflepuff, followed by Creevy, Dennis into Gryffindor. Blaise leaned over to Roisin, "Oh, damn, Potter's fan-boy has a brother. We're all doomed."

Roisin giggled and shushed him, frowning as certain faces at the Gryffindor table seemed more interested in talking and complaining about hunger than watching the new members of their house. The Sorting continued, the line of eleven-year-olds looking slightly less frightened as they worked their way through to the L's. MacDonald, Natalie went to the Gryffindor table, followed by Prichard, Graham, who came to Slytherin, and Quirke, Orla, who became a Ravenclaw.

The new Slytherins had by now caught on to the fact that they were going to get a Drying Charm when they reached the table, and some of the cheekier ones had turned it into a bit of a game by seeing how many charms they could dodge, then sitting near whoever managed to hit them. The Seventh-Years were trying to remain above it all, but Roisin had caught a few longing glances from new First-Years in the other Houses. The Ravenclaws had caught on, at least, when a Slytherin Sixth-Year had missed with her Drying Charm and hit a Ravenclaw by mistake. Professor Snape pretended not to notice.

The last student to be Sorted was Whitby, Kevin, who had been forming quite a puddle while he waited, and was finally Sorted into Hufflepuff. Dumbledore stood up, "I have only two words to say to you: _tuck in_."

Roisin helped herself to a scoop of peas from a nearby tureen, sending Vince and Greg a disapproving look as they fought over a platter of roast beef. "Not much of a welcome speech, but it was definitely better than the other nonsense-filled ones that he usually spouts."

There were murmurs of agreement from those within earshot. Draco was too well-bred to say anything with his mouth full and only nodded. Swallowing, he jerked his head toward the Gryffindor table. "It looks like something is up with your cousin."

Roisin immediately sought out Seamus, who was the most likely to be causing a commotion, but was only talking in an animated fashion with Colin Creevy and his brother Dennis. Draco shook his head indicating the other end of the table. "Wrong cousin, Rosie."

Telling someone not to call her 'Rosie' was automatic by now, so the Fourth-Years only grinned at the absent remark as Roisin sought out her other cousin. Actually, it was not Harry causing the issue, but Hermione, who was looking horrified about something and arguing with Ron. "Hmm, I wonder what that's about."

Blaise shrugged, "Who cares? When do you think Dumbledore is going to make the announcement about the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Desdemona echoed the movement, "After dinner, probably, that's when he makes most of the important announcements. Braised lamb, anyone?"

* * *

Taking a last bite of Mango Ice-Cream, Roisin waited for the food to vanish and turned her attention to Professor Dumbledore, nudging Malcolm Baddock, who was starting to doze off. Dumbledore stood up, spreading his arms wide. "So, now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more beg for your attention while I give a few more notices.

Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to inform you that the list of banned items has been expanded to include Fanged Frisbees, Screaming Yo-yos and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The list now comprises some one hundred thirty-seven items, and can be found outside of the caretaker's office, should any of you care to check it."

The corner of his mouth twitched, and several pairs of eyes flickered in the direction of the Weasley Twins.

"As ever, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to anyone below Third Year." Again, many eyes flashed toward the Gryffindor Table. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."

The Headmaster was interrupted by howls of protest from all four tables, but he waved them to silence. "This is due to an event that will be starting up in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure that you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts…"

He was cut off by a loud crash, which could have been either thunder, as the storm was still raging, or the door crashing open to reveal a man in a travelling cloak.

His entire face was craggy and scarred, a large chunk missing from his nose, and the clunking noise as he walked indicated a fake leg. He also wore a Magical Eye; a huge, electric-blue thing that swivelled every which way as he limped up to the head table, making a line for the empty chair.

Roisin raised an eyebrow at the stranger's appearance. THIS was their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? She leaned toward her Year-Mates. "Does anyone want to do the honours?"

Pansy's lips barely moved as she replied. "Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Once the best Auror in the past half-century. Still is, really, but far too paranoid to keep on active duty. He cursed an innocent cat half way to Australia because he thought it was a Death Eater in disguise as an illegal Animagus. Not Pretty."

Most of the rest of the school was in a state of stunned shock, with one or two students whispering to each other. At the Hufflepuff table, a nervous-looking First-Year burst into tears as the Magical Eye fixed on her, clinging to Susan Bones. Dumbledore somehow managed to sound bright and cheerful as he spoke into the dead silence. "May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody."

Dumbledore and Hagrid were the only ones to applaud, and even they stopped in short order, the sound of their clapping echoing into the dead silence of the Great Hall. Dumbledore cleared his throat again. "As I was saying, we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century." Actually, it had not been held for just over two centuries, but that was irrelevant. "It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

The Great Hall was again filled with murmurs, this time of excitement and a small amount of confusion. The Weasley Twins summed it up best with a very loud "You're Joking!"

Dumbledore smiled. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley. However I did hear a rather good one over the summer about a Hag, a Troll and a Leprechaun who all go into a bar – "

Roisin rolled her eyes in disgust, noticing not a few others doing the same. Really, if the vast majority of the population was too young to buy their own alcohol, then they were also too young to be listening to dirty bar-room jokes. Fortunately, the Deputy Headmistress agreed with Roisin's opinion, as she cleared her throat and gave Dumbledore a stern look that would freeze a banshee.

Even Dumbledore wasn't brave enough to argue with that look. "Er, but perhaps now is not the time. Some of you will already know of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but for those who do not, I beg your indulgence to explain. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest schools in Europe at the time – Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each of the three schools, and the three champions would compete in three magical tasks. The schools would take it in turns to host the Tournament every five years, and it was generally agreed to be an excellent way of forming ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that it, the Death Toll mounted so high that the Tri-Wizard Tournament was discontinued."

One of the new First-Years whispered, "Death Toll? And they're bringing it back? Are they mad?"

Roisin hushed them quietly. "Shh. That was over two hundred years ago, and there are supposed to be a lot more precautions this time around. You can be upset about it in the Common Room later."

Meanwhile, Dumbledore continued. "There have been several attempts over the centuries to re-start the Tournament, none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of Magical Co-operation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time; no Champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

_That_ was comforting. Any slight possibility of Roisin trying to enter the Tournament instantly dried up. "The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed students in October, and the selection of the three Champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Tri-Wizard Cup, the glory of their school, and one thousand galleons personal prize money."

More whispering broke out. Roisin imagined that the mention of so much prize money had over-ridden self-preservation for many of the students. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Tri-Wizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on the competitors this year. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen or older – will be allowed to put their names forth for consideration."

Howls of protest suddenly rose, although Roisin thought it quite a sensible idea. Quite aside from the whole 'mortal danger' bit, it would have been far too easy for an immature younger year to put the name of a friend in as a joke, and by seventeen you would hopefully know enough about magic to know better. Besides, Roisin could only shudder at the idea of a first- or second-year going up against tasks that could easily result in death.

Few others seemed to share this opinion, as Dumbledore was forced to raise his voice to be heard. "This is a measure that we feel is extremely necessary, as the tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, no matter what precautions we take, and it is unlikely that students below sixth- and seventh-year will be able to cope with them. I will personally ensure that no student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts Champion. I therefore beg that you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are underage."

Well, that just guaranteed that half the school would be researching ways to get past an Age-Line as soon as the library opened tomorrow morning. Did Dumbledore make these kind of announcements on purpose, just so he could laugh at the results? This was a school, for heaven's sake: Telling a student not to do something was as good as issuing an open invitation to try their best! How many students had gone straight to the Third Floor corridor in Roisin's first year, just to see what was so dangerous, again?

Whatever the students thought of the matter, Dumbledore seemed to think the subject closed. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of the year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests, and give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts Champion when he or she is chosen. And now, it is late, and I know how important it will be for you to be rested and alert for your classes tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop, chop."

There was much disgruntled muttering as the students filed out to head to their Commons and Dormitories. Nudging some of the sleepy first-years along, Roisin could already hear a half-dozen plots being developed to get underage names into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and ideas to weigh their chances.

* * *

It didn't get much better when they reached the Slytherin Common Room, either, as people instantly started brainstorming. Draco and Blaise looked contemplative as the Fourth-Years sat down near the fire for a bit of pre-bedtime talking. "I'm going to try to enter, no matter what Dumbledore says. An aging-potion might work, if it's something as simple as an age line. What about the rest of you?"

This was not a conversation that Roisin had any intention of participating in, and it really was getting late. "Not likely. I'm going to bed, unless someone can come up with a less-suicidal topic of conversation. Good night, everyone."

There was a general chorus of goodnights in return, and Millicent rose to accompany her up to their dorm. Millicent might have been a large and bulky girl, but she was gifted with a large dose of the common sense that was often so lacking amongst wizards, and the two girls exchanged looks as the rest of their year went right back to plotting how to hoodwink the impartial judge.

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_A/N: Well, this chapter took longer to write than I thought it would, but it is finished now. I am also considering a Merope Gaunt/Tom Riddle one-shot. Does anyone think I should give it a go?_

_As always, constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and flames will be used to ignite the Goblet of Fire._

_Thanks, Nat._


	46. The First Day

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Why Fanfiction. Net insists on making me say this every single one of the forty-six chapters so far, I will never know._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Herbology was simple enough for a first lesson, though Roisin was glad that she had slept in and not had time for more than a bit of toast, and that they had another lesson before lunch. Admittedly, that lesson was Care of Magical Creatures, but running away from one of Hagrid's 'cuddly' monsters would at least take her mind off this lesson. Bubotubers did not look so much like plants as long sticks covered in huge boils, containing a sloshy liquid that smelled like petrol. Pansy turned green just looking at the things.

It was Roisin's opinion that Professor Sprout took far too much pleasure in making the students harvest the plants, which was done by squeezing the boil-like pods, making them release a pus-like fluid that the students would collect in phials. By the time the revolted students made it out of the Greenhouses, Roisin was very clearly not the only one reconsidering lunch in an hour or so, or, indeed, if they would even be up for dinner.

It didn't help that the next lesson was CoMC. Roisin agreed with the Gryffindor Trio that Hagrid _meant_ well, but had a very unrealistic idea of what counted as 'appropriate class material', and what had students wishing that they had chosen something else as an elective.

The Slytherins were running late, having been forced to summon an elf for a glass of water for Pansy, who had looked ready to throw up after the bubotubers, and Desdemona, who was very pale, and let the two girls sit down for a few moments. They then had to run to avoid being marked Tardy, and arrived just in time to hear Hagrid speaking to the Trio. "Only just hatched, so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yourselves. Thought we'd make a bit of a project out of it."

'Them' was several crates of what looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, with legs sticking out in very odd places, no heads that Roisin could see, and about six inches long. There looked to be about a hundred in each crate, crawling over each other and bumping blindly into the walls of the box. They gave off a powerful smell of rotting fish, and every now and then, sparks would shoot out of one end, propelling the thing forward several inches.

For once, Draco summed everyone's feelings, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, up perfectly. "And why would we _want_ to raise them? I mean, what do they do? What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, and closed it again, apparently stumped for an answer, which did not make anyone feel at all better. He opened his mouth again, finally answering roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer just feeding them today. Now, yeh'll want to try 'em on a few different things – I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go for – " (Parvati whimpered) " – I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' bits o' grass snake – just try 'em out with a bit o' each."

Nothing but the knowledge that this was a long-term project and probably the difference between a passing and failing grade could have forced Roisin to go near the things, which Hagrid called 'Blast-Ended Skrewts'. She drew the line and actually reaching into the crate and feeding them, because they didn't even seem to have mouths.

This determination was re-enforced when, about ten minutes later, Dean Thomas let out a yell, clutching his hand. "Ouch! It got me!" Hagrid hurried over, probably fearing a repeat of last year's Hippogryff incident, as Dean looked angry. "It's end exploded!"

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off." Hagrid nodded casually, as if burns that looked severe enough to warrant Madam Pomfrey were nothing to be concerned about. Roisin thought about asking the formidable Matron to have a word with Hagrid about basic health and safety, as she conjured a stream of cold water and directed it at Dean's injured hand.

Dean muttered his thanks, apparently hurt enough to vocally acknowledge a Slytherin in a non-hostile manner, which was worrying, as Lavender Brown squealed in disgust, pointing at the box. "Eurgh! Hagrid, what is that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of them have got stings," was the enthusiastic reply (Lavender snatched her hand away. Roisin, who had reluctantly moved closer to the box, beat a hasty retreat). "I reckon they're the males… the females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies… I think they might be to suck blood."

Until now, Draco had opted for silence over being noticed and forced to participate, as had everyone else who thought that they might get away with it. This latest information from Hagrid, however, made it impossible to keep quiet. "Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive. Who wouldn't want a pet that can burn, sting and bite all at once?"

Actually, Roisin wouldn't have been surprised if that was exactly Hagrid's idea of the ideal pet. Hermione looked like she agreed with Draco, but shot him down out of loyalty and habit. "Just because they're not very pretty, doesn't mean they're not useful. Dragon blood is amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Roisin might not object too much, as long as it was a baby Antipodian Opaleye, and there was a certified expert on hand to take care of any potential problems that might appear… maybe she shouldn't have stayed up reading _Dragon Rider_ a few days ago. Draco was about to retaliate against Hermione's comment with a snappy remark, but the bell rang, signalling the end of class, and everyone made a break for it before Hagrid could 'volunteer' anyone to stay behind and help him to pack up.

* * *

Lunch was spent warning the rest of the House with tales of what awaited them in Care of Magical Creatures, and most likely scaring many of the younger students away from that elective, and speculation about what would happen when the Blast-Ended Skrewts grew up. Unlike most of Draco's storytelling, there was not even a hint of artistic licence, outside of an ominous 'just you wait and see for yourself' for the skeptics.

From the other end of the table, where several NEWT-Level Care of Magical Creatures were seated, Roisin thought she heard the beginnings of a plot to make sure that the Skrewts didn't live to grow up in the first place, and how to pull it off without failing the course.

If they could come up with a way to do it without getting caught, Roisin might offer to help. There had been hints that Poisons would be part of the curriculum in Potions this year, maybe she could sneak something untraceable into the Blast-Ended Skrewt's food, and claim them as collateral damage while they tried to find out what the Skrewt's ate.

* * *

After lunch was Arithmancy, with Professor Vector in an unusually lenient mood. Most Arithmancy classes ended with large amounts of complicated homework assignments, but today was just a review to see how much they had forgotten over the summer, and a brief run-down of what they would be covering in the coming year.

Of course, even without homework, Roisin still had numbers and equations dancing in front of her eyes by the time the Fourth-Years finally staggered out of the Arithmancy Classroom.

Spotting Desdemona coming down from Divination, looking cross and muttering, Roisin smiled at the probability of teasing Desdemona about the amount of Divination homework she most likely had, and wondered what on earth could have caused the notoriously flighty Professor, who hated grading homework almost as much as the students hated doing it, to have assigned such a heavy load, it that was indeed the reason behind the grumbling.

Apparently it was, if the identical, only a good deal louder, complaining from Harry and Ron, who appeared a few moments later, was anything to go by. Probably hoping to convert her friends away from Divination, Hermione all but bounced over to the boys, cheerfully announcing her own lack of a workload.

Putting on a bright smile of her own, Roisin walked over to her best friend, draping an arm around the other girl's shoulder. "The first day and we have no actual homework, what about you? I think I'll spend this evening getting started on that _'Faerie Path' _series that Nana sent me."

Desdemona let out what could only be described as a growl as Pansy joined them. "Say what you will about Muggles, they do write good fiction. Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ isn't that great, though, and that's going to take up the next few weeks. I mean, have you read it? The author was a squib, and every second sentence was wrong!"

Theo joined the discussion, walking a bit faster than necessary. "That's because there was a Vampire uprising at the time that was drawing far too much attention. The Ministry commissioned Stoker and a number of others, like John Polidory, for a bit of deliberate mis-direction through popular fiction. Heads up, by the way, Draco just got hold of a story about the Weasleys in the _Daily Prophet_."

Roisin sighed, the sentiment echoed by Desdemona's exasperated expression. Draco did have his moments when he could open his mouth without someone wanting to slap it closed again, but encounters with Gryffindors, especially the Trio, were never among those moments. Detention on the first day was never a good thing, however, so the small group quickened their pace in the hopes of catching Draco before anyone got punched or hexed.

They arrived just in time to hear the Malfoy Heir, flanked by Greg and Vince, loudly reading the article to a gathering crowd.

'_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (policemen) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake, and attempted murder.'_

Did they mean that such a level of paranoia was_ TYPICAL_ of their new DADA teacher? How was he going to react when they started practicing defensive and offensive spells in class? Beside her, Pansy looked slightly faint, probably having drawn the same conclusion that Roisin had. Pausing to draw breath, Draco continued reading.

'_Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer the __**Daily Prophet**__'s questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embaressing scene.'_

Ouch. Roisin was willing to bet that Rita Skeeter was behind that particular article, as she apprehensively looked to see Ron Weasley's reaction. He did not speak, but was literally shaking with rage, while Harry and Hermione stood ready to grab and restrain Ron at any moment. "Get stuffed, Malfoy. C'mon, Ron…"

"Oh, yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Draco sneered as Roisin fought the urge to bang her head, or perhaps Draco's, against a wall. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

Ron lunged at Draco a half-second after the other two pre-emptivly lunged to restrain Ron. It was perhaps not a good thing that Harry, being fond of all of the Weasley's, responded before Hermione could pull them both away. "You know your mother, Malfoy? That look she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

If you ignored her sense of extreme superiority and the prejudices that she was raised with, Narcissa was actually a fairly nice lady, and very loving mother. This altercation was turning out to be even worse than usual. Draco's pale face took on a pink tinge as he glared. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

Roisin thought that such a statement was more than slightly hypocritical, but didn't get the chance to intercede. Harry turned away to get Ron into the Great Hall without violence. "Keep your fat mouth shut, then."

Before anyone could stop him, or shout a warning that Professor Moody was approaching (the distinctive _clunk_ of a wooden leg was hard to miss) Draco had pulled his wand and shot a curse at the departing Trio. BANG! There were several screams, swiftly silenced by a second, louder, BANG, and a roar of "OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Professor Moody had arrived, and Roisin's fears about paranoia and over-reaction were confirmed, as the ex-Auror's wand was now pointing at a pure white ferret, exactly where Draco had been standing only seconds before. The Slytherins broke their stunned paralysis, rushing over to the ferret as Moody checked that Harry was all right, and Vince bent to pick Draco up. Everyone jumped when Moody yelled for him to "LEAVE IT!"

Draco gave a terrified squeak and ran for the dungeons, probably to find Professor Snape, as you needed to be able to actually speak the password to get into the Common Room, but his escape was cut off as Moody pointed his wand again and Draco flew ten feet into the air, hit the floor with a smack, and bounced up again. Professor Moody seemed to find this kind of abuse acceptable, as everyone watched, too stunned to speak or act. "I don't like people who attack when their opponant's back is turned," Moody growled, bouncing Draco even higher, "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

Draco's squeals of pain also increased with the hight, snapping Roisin out of her frozen state. She stepped forward and managed to catch Draco on his way down again, holding on tight. The force and leverage required to lift an adolescent girl into the air is a great deal more than that required to bounce an average ferret, so both stayed on the ground, Draco quivering in Roisin's arms as Moody advanced on them both, wand drawn.

Roisin started to tremble nearly as much as Draco, and nearly collapsed in relief as the tones of the Deputy Headmistress echoed off the stone walls. "Professor Moody! What – what are you doing?"

Professor McGonagall's tone would have had anyone else running for the hills begging for mercy, but Moody somehow remained calm. "Hello, Professor McGonagall. I'm Teaching."

Not even Lockhart would have considered pointing a wand at a clearly terrified student to be teaching, and Professor McGonagall looked ready to demand answers as to why Moody was threatening a student who seldom formally misbehaved, as he silently tried to summon Draco This caused Roisin to stumble forward, her arms yanked in front of her, and the Deputy caught sight of the Transfigured boy. "Teach – Moody, _is that a student_?"

Professor McGonagall's outraged shriek got rid of any of the watchers who didn't have some kind of personal interest in the spectacle as Moody casually replied, "Yep."

"No!" Professor McGonagall ran down the stairs, drawing her own wand, and Roisin nearly over-balanced as Draco turned back into a very rumpled teenage boy. He clambered to his feet, wincing, as Desdemona steadied Roisin. "Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

The Deputy Headmistress's wand had moved from Draco, to a far more business-like aim at Moody, who somehow remained unconcerned as he scratched his cheek. "He might have mentioned it, yeah, but I thought a good sharp shock…"

Professor McGonagall's wand remained steady as she quickly checked to see that Roisin was also un-damaged, other than being very pale and shaking, and the fury had not left her voice. "We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that then," said Moody, giving Draco a look of intense dislike as the youth tried to re-gain some composture, muttering something that started with the usual '_my father_…'

Moody's dark stare deepened. "Oh, yeah? Well, I know your father of old, boy… you tell him that Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of House will be Snape, will it?"

How Draco managed a resentful tone, Roisin would never know. "Yes."

"Another old friend," growled Moody as he marched Draco off toward the dungeons. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… come on, you…"

Pansy gestured for the other Slytherin boys to follow Moody at a safe distance, just n case he planned on finishing the job as soon as he was out of Professor McGonagall's stern sight, then the girls clustered around a semi-dazed Roisin, sweeping her back to the Common Room.

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A/N: Another chapter done. Some people will probably think that I'm making Roisin a Mary-Sue for stepping in like that, but she doesn't know all of the stories about Moody's days as an Auror, and how would you react if your friend was turned into a ferret and bounced all over the place, especially if it was by a teacher?  
As always, reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated, while Flames are used to ignite the Goblet of Fire.

Thanks, Nat


	47. Defense Against The Dark Arts Disasters

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This should have sunk in by now, but the site insists._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN**

Down in the Common Room, Roisin was sitting by the fire, still in a mild state of aftershock from facing down Moody. Being on the opposite end of a notoriously paranoid Auror's wand, especially after said Auror had just turned your friend from a Malfoy to a mustelidae, was more than a little traumatic, even without the blatantly Gryffindor aspect that she was going to spend months attempting to live down.

Mary had smuggled Seamus in while everyone else was still at dinner, and the twins were now curled up next to their cousin as she stared into the dancing flames. Behind them, Millicent, Desdemona and Pansy exchanged concerned looks, none of them really knowing what to say.

Roisin finally looked up when the Common Room portal opened again, allowing the Fourth-Year boys to enter. Now that the ex-Auror was out of earshot, Draco was loudly complaining about Moody and how his father was going to react, but Blaise headed straight for his girlfriend's side, lifting her up and sliding onto the couch beneath her when the twins refused to move. Setting Roisin back down on his lap, she relaxed slightly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "How are you holding up, Rose?"

Roisin closed her eyes. "I was on the wrong end of an insane ex-Auror's wand, and there are about fifty witnesses who are probably debating whether to sulk about me not letting Moody bounce Draco all over the Hall, or to cheer on my 'Gryffindor Bravery', which I shall never hear the end of. At the risk of sounding waspish, how do you think I'm holding up?"

Blaise grinned ruefully. Roisin had to be recovering at least a bit, if she was back to using sarcasm. "Good point. Is there anything I can do to help? Hold a protest; sic Peeves or the Weasley Twins on him?"

This coaxed a smile out of the Irish girl, though it was quickly eclipsed by an expression of horror. "Oh, heck no! I just saw my House-mate turned into a ferret for losing his temper and firing a hex, I don't want to have my boyfriend turned into a beetle or mosquito for deliberately antagonizing a certifiable nutcase!"

Blaise grinned again, this time with wicked humour. "It would certainly re-define the term 'love-bite', though. Do you think the Professors would let us get away with that excuse if we blamed Moody?"

The mischievous remark got the desired effect, as Roisin blushed, giggled, and whacked him on the arm. Blaise ignored the disgusted noises from Mary and Seamus, kissing Roisin as the Twins beat a hasty retreat. Suddenly, they had an extra reason to be glad of no homework tonight.

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If the first day had ended in disaster, the rest of the week was no less abysmal. There had been yet another Longbottom Disaster in Potions, resulting in melted cauldrons and visits to Madam Pomfrey, and Roisin had only just escaped the Hospital wing when the Brains of Gryffindor managed to corner her outside of the Great Hall, crusading for House-Elf rights.

Normally, Roisin wouldn't have minded, as there were some owners who paid very little consideration to their Elves' Welfare, but when Hermione started going on about wages and sick-leave, it became obvious that the Gryffindor had put very little research or thought into the project. Had she even asked the elves if they _wanted_ money or sick leave? Because Roisin was quite sure that they didn't. Actually, Roisin had never heard of a House-Elf becoming sick in the first place. Wasn't old age supposed to be the only thing that slowed them down?

Hermione was a bit bull-headed when she was fixated on a project, but this took things a bit far. "I am not wearing a badge with 'spew' on it, end of story. Look, can't you annoy your own housemates with this? Why are you following me around?"

Hermione rattled the box of buttons, emblazoned with the letters S.P.E.W., fiercely under Roisin's nose. "Because you are the only member of Slytherin that will listen, and you have a lot of influence with them. Now give me a good reason that you won't help with such a good cause!"

Roisin sighed. The 'Cause' might be well-intentioned, but it was far from 'Good'. Had Hermione even spoken to a House-Elf? Studied their history? She had encountered two elves, and formed an opinion without considering the facts. "Look, have you tried talking to a House Elf? Have you asked for their opinion on the matter? You're talking about freeing a race that doesn't want to be freed, and taking away the work that they love."

Hermione glared, refusing to be dissuaded. "That's because they're undereducated and enslaved! They don't know what's best for them!"

Roisin sighed again. "Are you listening to yourself? You sound exactly like plantation owners who justified keeping people as slaves in the first place, or invaders trying to justify the obliteration of sacred traditions and such!"

Hermione drew herself up in fury, her face turning red. "It's nothing like the same thing! I thought you'd understand since you weren't raised to believe in the subjugation of an entire race just because they aren't human. Now give me a proper reason why you won't support this!"

Roisin was five seconds away from hitting the other girl. Her heritage was a carefully maintained secret that could cause any number of problems if her less-tolerant housemates got wind of it, and was not something to be shouted at top volume just because Hermione was upset. "Look, I'll tell you a story. There are House-Elves at the O'Conner Keep, and last Winter Holiday, one of the kids accidentally gave one of them clothing."

Hermione started to interrupt, probably to try and force a misinformed point, but Roisin cut her off. "Everyone thought that a bunch of banshees had invaded, the poor thing was wailing so loud, begging for death rather than such disgrace. Aunt Nessa reassured Mimsy that it was an accident and Sean and his wife welcomed her back into their personal service, because freedom cannot be reversed at a whim and she had to be taken into a different family, but you couldn't so much as stand up to get a drink of water or summon an apple without one of the Keep Elves popping up to do if for you, all desperate to convince us that they were the best elves on the planet and shouldn't be dismissed, even by accident."

For a few moments, Roisin thought that she had almost made it through to Hermione, but the Gryffindor's expression firmed and she tossed her bushy hair. "If that's your opinion, then fine, but don't expect me to give up!"

Roisin threw up her hands in exasperation and stalked into the hall. Bloody Gryffindors!

* * *

The Slytherins had heard about Moody demonstrating the Imperius Curse on some of the older years, and were of two minds about the upcoming class. It would be nice to have a teacher who would actually teach them about curses (Professor Lupin had been more than competent, but had focused mainly on Magical Creatures), but no-one had forgotten the 'Ferret Fiasco.

They lined up nervously outside the classroom before the bell had even rung, not wanting to give Moody any excuse for turning the rest of them into rodents. As soon as they heard the bell, the Slytherins hurried into the classroom to take their seats. Unsurprisingly, the back row filled up first.

Greg had been the last to remember to pull out his books, and had barely placed '_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection'_ on his desk when they heard the distinctive clunking sound of Moody's wooden leg. They all sat up straighter as the professor entered, looking as frightening as ever.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping up to the teacher's desk and sitting down, "Those books. You won't need them."

Well, that was certainly different. Professor Lupin had started with a Practical, and then alternated between that and theory in class, but Quirrel and Lockhart had been books all the way. They put their books back as Moody pulled out a register and started to call names. Roisin noticed that he would pause and scowl at certain names, the common theme being that the student had a relative who had been tried as a Death Eater and got off. As an Auror, she supposed that it would be a sore point with him.

"Right then," he said, when Blaise had declared himself present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark Creatures – you've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas and Werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent, as no one really wanted to draw attention to themselves. Moody continued, "But you're behind – very behind – in dealing with Curses. So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with the dark – " (Roisin and Draco tried to keep their sighs of relief quiet) "– and then it's back to my quiet retirement."

Moody gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together. "So – straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to show you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark Curses look like until you're in Sixth Year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it until then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. A wizard who's about to use an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do."

Actually, Gregory the Smarmy had a reputation for doing just that. An almost unbeatable duelist, and third-in-command to a then-current Dark Lady, he would taunt his opponents with exactly what he was about to cast at them, believing that it made for a greater challenge. There were rumors that the Death Stick, one of the legendary Three Hallows, was involved in his defeat, but since the Hallows themselves were also the stuff of legend, few people believed it, and thought that either one of his opponents got very lucky, or he was jumped from behind by several at once.

That was beside the point, as Moody was still talking, and Roisin quickly went back to paying attention. "He's not going to be nice and polite about it. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to_ pay attention _Miss Moon, when I'm talking."

Desdemona, who had been examining a particularly graphic poster on the wall, jumped guiltily, and instantly snapped her attention back to the scarred Professor, who continued calmly. "So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law?"

Several hands rose reluctantly into the air, including Greg and Vince, who almost never volunteered information, largely because they never got it right, but were smart enough to know that they were wrong. Moody called on Vince. "My Father told me about one… the Imperious Curse."

"Ah, yes," was Moody's sour reply, "Your dad would know about that one. Accused Death Eaters claiming it right and left, after the Dark Lord fell."

Roisin wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot-pole, and carefully didn't look at the suddenly scowling boy as Moody pulled out a large glass jar containing three large spiders. Roisin hated spiders, though not quite to Ron Weasley's level of fear, and was suddenly very glad that she was at the back of the room.

Moody reached into the jar and caught one of the spiders, holding it in his had for all to see. He pointed his wand at it and muttered_ "Imperio"_.

The spider leaped off Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk, and began a fairly impressive trapeze act. It then did a back-flip, breaking the thread, and rose onto its hind legs in an unmistakable tap dance.

It might have been humorous, but no one laughed. After the Death Eater Fiasco at the World Cup, Millicent had been having nightmares revolving around one of her cousins, who had been put under the Imperious Curse in the war with Voldemort and forced to kill his family. He had been found Innocent of their murders, but committed suicide three years later. Moody continued his lecture as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "Total control. I could make it jump out of a window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Millicent let out a low whimper of distress. Roisin, sitting beside her, placed a gentle hand on the larger girl's arm.

"Years back; there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperious Curse." No one needed to be told that Moody was talking about the war with Voldemort. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperious Curse can be fought, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better to avoid being hit with it, if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The last two words were shouted, and everyone jumped, Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Roisin had never asked why Aiobhe had been shaking uncontrollably as they Portkeyed back to the O'Conner Keep, thinking it to be the result of shock. It was not until she overheard a conversation between her aunt and uncle, while searching for a book that Mary had borrowed and lost, that she had discovered that it was actually the result of the Torture Curse. It was a struggle to keep her voice detached as she answered the question. "The Cruciatus Curse."

There were a few odd glances, and a concerned look from Blaise, but Moody ignored them as he pulled out the second spider, enlarging it to about twice the size of a tarantula. He raised his wand, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "_Crucio._"

The spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began twitching horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Roisin knew that if spiders had voices, it would be screaming louder than the supporting cast of '_Hellraiser_'. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider began to shudder and jerk more violently –

"Stop it!" The surprisingly shrill cry came, even more surprisingly, from Draco, a fact that Roisin decided to think upon later. Moody raised his wand, and the spider relaxed, though it continued to twitch. Moody returned the spider to its normal size, and tossed it back into the jar. "Pain." He said softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… that one was very popular once, too. Right… anyone know any others?"

They all knew the last, but no one wanted to say it. Finally, Blaise raised his hand, "Avada Kedavra."

Roisin winced, sending her boyfriend a helplessly sympathetic look across the aisle. The Killing Curse had been the spell to take the life of Blaise's father, when a Vengeance-Crazed wizard had attacked the Wizarding primary school where Mr. Zabini worked.

The final spider began to frantically scurry around the car, as though it knew what was coming. When it was tipped onto the desk, it started to scuttle over the wooden surface, looking for a hiding spot. Moody raised his wand, and they all felt a thrill of foreboding. "_Avada Kedavra_."

There was a blinding flash of green light, and a rushing sound, as though something was speeding through the air. The spider instantly rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Roisin couldn't quite stifle a small scream, and Blaise almost fell off his chair as he threw himself backwards. The others all looked pale.

Moody swept the spider off the desk onto the floor, perfectly calm about having cast all three Unforgivables. "Not nice. Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only one person has ever survived, and they're attending this very school, in your own year."

Roisin remembered Ron Weasley chattering excitedly to anyone who would listen about the Gryffindor-and-Hufflepuff DADA lesson yesterday, and couldn't stop herself from hoping that Moody hadn't repeated that exact speech in front of Harry. Bad enough to finally find out what killed his parents; much less have it shoved in his face like that. Harry hated being a celebrity as it was no need to remind him again that he was famous for living when his family died.

Moody was speaking again, and Roisin dragged her attention back to the present before she was turned into a stoat. "Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it. You could all get out your wands and point them at me and say the words and I doubt that I'd get so much as a nose-bleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it."

Roisin let out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding, as did several others, though she didn't look to see who.

"Now, if there's no counter-curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know!_ You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Everyone jumped again, and Moody finally settled down into what could be called a normal lecture mode. "Now… those three curses – Avada Kedavra, Imperious and Cruciatus – are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills, copy this down…"

The rest of the lesson was spent taking notes on the Unforgivable Curses. No one, not even the debate-prone Ravenclaws with whom they shared the class, spoke until the bell rang, at which point the Slytherins all made a bee-line for their common room.

* * *

They clustered around the fire, while Desdemona made a quick call for a house-elf to bring a tray of sandwiches and several butterbeers. In a rare moment of loquaciousness, Greg finally spoke. "My Mum once said that a burden shared is a burden halved. I'm not quite sure what she meant, but it seems appropriate."

Pansy gave a faint half-smile. "It means that talking about a problem can make it easier to bear. Like how the Ravenclaws thought that it was interesting to learn about the Unforgivables, but we had somewhat…" she glanced around the circle, "Adverse reactions."

Millicent gave a small huff. "That's one way of putting it. In the war with Voldemort, my cousin was placed under the Imperious Curse and forced to kill his wife and infant children. We tried to look after him, but he killed himself as soon as we felt it safe to turn our backs. I still have nightmares about it."

Firmly ensconced in Blaise's arms, and with every intention of staying there, Roisin winced. "You aren't the only one. The Death Eaters _Crucio_'ed my cousin's fiancée at the World Cup. It took nearly a full day for her to totally stop shaking. Nana said that it was good that Erin, the twins, and I were hidden, or they might have done the same to us."

Draco cringed, tracing patterns on Pansy's hand, which rested on his knee. "My mother's sister is Bellatrix LeStrange. She, her husband, brother-in-law, and one other were sentenced to Azkaban for being Death Eaters and, specifically, for torturing two Aurors into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse. Help arrived before they found the couple's infant son, but it was a close thing."

Desdemona and Millicent both moved closer to Theo, who looked mildly panicked at their proximity, as Blaise finally spoke. "I told you last year how my Father was murdered with the Killing Curse. Mother never truly recovered from the loss; that's why she re-married so many times. She said that Father left a hole in her heart that can't be filled, but she tried, because she wanted me to have a male figure in my life, even if it couldn't be him."

Roisin would bet that the other Houses didn't have anything like this to deal with; otherwise they wouldn't have been so bloody enthusiastic about the whole thing. She only hoped that today's lesson wasn't going to set the tone for the entire year…

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* * *

_A/N: Not the best of endings, but I seriously spent days trying to figure out how to wrap it up. Hopefully it isn't too bad._

_As always, reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated, but flames are not. The Blast-Ended Skrewts are bad enough._

_Thanks, Nat_


	48. Academics and Arrivals

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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* * *

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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Teaching was teaching, and Hogwarts had high standards, but this was getting ridiculous. The Professors seemed dead-set on proving that the Hogwarts rate of education was the best in Europe, to the point that Professor Snape even took points from his own House when Greg messed up a fairly simple potion that they had been reviewing.

Straight after that memorable Potions lesson, they had gone straight to a Charms lesson where the normally easy-going Professor Flitwick had actually snapped at several students who were struggling with an animation charm. Admittedly, they had covered animation charms in first year, so even advanced ones should be easy, but the tiny Charms Professor seldom even raised his voice, so the students viewed it as more than a bit of a shock.

They staggered out of the classroom and back to the Slytherin Common Room for a free period, where Draco kicked a few firsties out of some seats near the fireplace. "Well, that's a morning I would love to never repeat."

Roisin closed her eyes. "So, in an attempt to salvage anything from this day, how goes the Animagus project?"

Desdemona grinned. "We have the spell down and the potion is nearly ready. Who wants to go first?"

_

* * *

_

I will not laugh, I will not laugh, I will not… oh, stuff that! "

"Ahahahaha! Of all the forms, Draco! Isn't he such a wittle cutie?"

Blaise's face was carefully bland, but his voice trembled slightly. "So, this falls under 'Not Registering Due To Embarrassment', then?"

The albino ferret glared up at them as Desdemona's laughter joined Roisin's. Theo had already passed laughter, and was hyperventilating on the floor, gasping for breath and unable to stop grinning. The ferret charged the two girls just as Roisin fell back on the table she had been leaning against, causing him to crash into the wooden table leg. Desdemona only laughed harder.

Pansy, who had somehow managed to restrain herself from any visible amusement, calmly performed the counter-spell, turning the dazed white ferret back into a dazed Draco Malfoy. Wobbling slightly, Draco managed to focus on the still gleefully giggling girls as Millicent recovered from the 'coughing fit' that fooled no-one. "You do it then, if you're so clever!"

Controlling herself and calming her mind, Roisin concentrated on finding her Animagus form. "_Animagus Revealo!_"

Roisin's body shrunk as her bones changed and re-arranged themselves. Her arms changed to legs, her face lengthened, and fur grew over her body. Her senses suddenly felt magnified a hundred-fold as she stretched and padded over to the mirror that the Fourth-years had set up in the corner. The lupine, golden-eyed face of a grey wolf stared back at her.

Draco smirked and leaned forward, but didn't get further than a baby-voiced "Awww…" before Roisin bared a snout filled with sharp teeth at him, the hint of a growl in her throat. A large wolf is a lot more threatening than an average ferret, and Draco quickly changed his mind. Before he could pull out his wand to cast the counter curse, however, Gregory Goyle got there first.

Unfortunately, if somewhat predictably, he mispronounced the counter-spell, causing Roisin to turn back into a teenaged girl… mostly. Her body was the same, but she still had forelegs and paws from the elbow down, and her head was still that of a wolf. Whether the growl in her voice was part of the transformation or not was up for debate. "Goyle…"

Her year-mates collapsed laughing, with the exception of Blaise, who was intelligent enough stay on the good side of his irate and dangerous girlfriend, and maintained a carefully neutral expression, betrayed by the slight twitching of his lips. With a growling sigh, Roisin walked out of the classroom to find Professor McGonagall's office, which was luckily only a floor away. Roisin thought that the Gryffindor Fourth-Years had Transfiguration right now, but that couldn't be helped.

Mid-Afternoon, the corridors were mostly empty, with everyone either enjoying the last of the good outdoor weather, or in class. Therefore, Roisin nearly made it to Professor McGonagall's office, before running into a group of lost first-years, also with a free period, who instantly started screaming, bringing half of the castle running.

Roisin snarled at the laughing students, causing most of the older ones to shut up, and a few of the first- and second-years to shriek and pass out. One First Year, who Roisin thought she remembered as Colin Creevey's younger relative, had been staring in fascination, rather than laughing, and couldn't hold back a question. "You're a Werewolf? That is so cool!"

Roisin fought back the urge to strangle the boy. "It's the middle of the day during a waxing crescent moon, you twit. It's nothing more than a Transfiguration spell gone wrong."

* * *

The Slytherins had heard about Moody demonstrating the Imperius Curse, again from Ron Weasley's loud mouth, and were of two minds about the upcoming class.

On the one hand, it would be a good thing to know. On the other hand, being put under an Unforgivable Curse and forced to do Gods-Know-What was hardly something that any sane individual would actually want to do.

Desdemona had to stand motionless and recite a lullaby, but managed to semi-fight it, because Moody hadn't specified _which_ lullaby, allowing her to choose a rather dirty 14th Century song with 'lullaby' in the title. Draco hopped around the room, imitating a bullfrog, rather than a treefrog. Millicent had to sing _I'm a little Cauldron_, complete with dance routine, but no one seemed to be able to totally throw it off.

Then it was Roisin's turn. She mentally braced herself as Professor Moody pointed his wand at her, and then she was surrounded by a warm, floaty feeling, and a tiny voice was whispering in her ear. _Sing the Australian National Anthem…_

That was when things hit a snag. According to what Roisin had read about the Unforgivables, the Imperius Curse had two drawbacks. The first was that you had to be very specific, as evidenced by Desdemona's choice of song. The second was that it couldn't force someone to do something that they were incapable of doing. An Arthritic Senior Citizen couldn't tie themselves into a human knot, for example. An infant who had yet to master coherent speech couldn't be forced to recite the Declaration of Independence.

Having watched the Opening Ceremony of the 1988 Olympic Games, Roisin vaguely remembered the tune of _Advance Australia Fair_, but had no idea of the lyrics. She started humming the opening bars, but trying to think of the words forced her brain to try to function on its own, which led her to wonder why the hell she would be singing another country's anthem in the middle of class?

The result was a strangled splutter, as Roisin tried to sing, even as her ignorance of the words forced her to stop. Ironically, Moody was thrilled. "Look at that, all of you! O'Conner nearly did it! Good job with you, too, Moon, you almost had it! Watch the eyes, that's where you'll see it! Very good, girls, ten points each to Slytherin. Now, let's try it again…"

Before Roisin could even think to protest, Moody cast the curse again, but Roisin's mind drew strength from the last time she resisted, even if it had been involuntary, and tried to fight again. "_Australians all let us_…" Wait, why was she singing in class?

* * *

The Fourth-Years were very glad that DADA was the last class of that day as they made their slow way out of the classroom.

"The way he talks," Roisin said, mentally running through the recipe for that week's Potions Antidote, hoping to get _'Advance Australia Fair' _out of her head before it stuck. (Moody had provided her with the actual lyrics, to see if she could throw the Imperious without the handicap. It took another eight tries.) "You'd thing some dark wizard was going to jump us at any second."

"Tell me about it," Desdemona was now humming _'Weapons at the Door'. _Pansy was shooting her disapproving looks, while attempting to keep her arms at her side, as she had not been as successful at throwing off the curse, and was exhausted by ten minutes of jumping jacks.

"Talk about paranoid…" Draco double-checked to make sure that Moody was no-where nearby. "No wonder they were so glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Terry what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools Day?"

Roisin lifted an eyebrow. She hadn't heard, and probably didn't want to know, anyway. "Better question: when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperious Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

It was a fair question. The teachers had been piling on the workload, and maybe a third of it could be blamed on the impending visit of the other Triwizard Schools. It was explained when they were next in Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall had reached borderline sarcasm, which was almost unheard of from the no-nonsense Deputy Headmistress, while starting them on OWL material. Protests that they did not take those exams until Fifth-Year went unheeded, bar a comment that they needed all the preparation that they could get. "Miss Granger and Mr. Boot remain the only ones capable of turning a hedgehog into a pincushion. I will remind you, Mr. Goldstein, that your pincushion still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a needle!"

Roisin giggled quietly, but admitted that she really had no room to mock, as her pincushion was always a hedgehog-shaped one, rather than the generic round ball, no matter how hard she visualized. Desdemona's pincushion still managed to shuffle an inch or two away from anyone who approached, pin or no pin. Draco's pincushion _looked_ normal – for about three seconds, at which point it would panic and start throwing needles, pins and fasteners all over the room, to the point that no-one was willing to practice within three feet of him.

The Arithmancy and Ancient Runes students were feeling particularly wiped, as the Professors in those subjects had decided to see if any of the students could predict any upcoming events, to be marked in a month's time. This caused a number of grumbles, as many students had signed up in order to avoid Divination, and unlike Trelawney, Professors Vector and Babbling could not be fooled by making up predictions of random Doom and Gloom.

Roisin was not particularly optimistic about her marks, as the only predictions she had come up with (honestly, thank you very much, Desdemona!) was that tomorrow's main course at dinner would be roast beef, that they would be serving stroganoff and a French seafood dish that Roisin couldn't even pronounce, much less spell, in the near future, and that the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion would bring Glory to the House that cared for it least.

Roisin had suggested that the last prediction might indicate a Hufflepuff Hogwarts Champion, but had been drowned out by shrieks of laughter and protest.

Even Hagrid, who hated giving (and therefore marking) homework almost as much as the students hated receiving it, was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable rate, given that the class had yet to discover what the monsters ate. Hagrid (and no-one else) was delighted and, as part of their 'project', suggested that they might like to come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the Skrewts and take notes on their behaviour.

Roisin could think of very few things that she would like to do less, but, as usual, waited for Draco to make the actual remark, and therefore get the credit or blame in her stead.

Also as usual, the Malfoy Heir did not disappoint. His expression grew disbelieving as Hagrid proposed the noting with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large present out of his sack, and he barely waited for Hagrid to finish talking before he flatly refused. "I will not. I see enough of those foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile vanished, though it was probably more at the insult to his pets, than Draco's almost-rude tone, which Hagrid had shrugged off countless times before. "Yeh'll do wha' yer told, Malfoy. Else I'll be taking a leaf out o' Professor Moody's book. I hear yeh make a good ferret, Malfoy."

The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Draco flushed with anger. Roisin would have told the Gryffindors to belt up, but as she had laughed over the exact same thing only days ago, she really had no room to talk.

* * *

That fact didn't stop her from having to explain the should-have-been obvious cause for her lack of action as Draco fumed his way back up to the castle. He only stopped when they reached the Entrance Hall, and found themselves unable to proceed further, thanks to the massive crowd of students milling around a large sign erected at the foot of the marble staircase.

Feeling that this was one crowd that she probably wouldn't be able to push through without getting hexed, Roisin had Greg and Vince push their way a bit closer, and then lift Millicent so that she could see and tell the rest of them.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30__th__ of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their books and other belongings to their Dormitories before lining up in the Entrance Hall to greet our guests. _

The Slytherins had Potions last thing on Friday, and numerous other students had either Potions, Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures at some point that afternoon. Those who didn't have those classes probably had Charms or Transfiguration, which, depending on what you were covering, could have singed, torn, or otherwise messy results. It went tactfully without saying that the period between 4:00 and when they greeted the other schools was to be used to clean themselves up.

"Only a week away," Theo tried not to look excited and failed. Miserably. "Do you think the Seventh Years know? We'd better go and tell them."

Steadying Millicent when Vince and Greg staggered while lowering her back to the floor, Roisin considered pointing out that with this many students crowded around, and many more probably having already left the scene, it was almost impossible for the Seventh-Years _not _to know, but decided against it. Sadly, that meant listening to Theo chatter as they started fighting their way through the crowd.

They made it all of a few feet before almost crashing into Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, who had obviously been thinking the same as Theo, and was chattering at Cedric. "…going for Champion – oh, hello, all of you. We were just talking about the selection of Hogwarts Champion."

Roisin was on better terms with the other Houses in general than most of her group, and smiled in greeting. "Hello Ernie, Cedric. We were just on our way to see if our candidates knew yet." She looked at the surrounding crowd, then batted her eyes in a melodramatic, outrageously-exaggerated fashion and clasped her hands, ignoring Desdemona's muffled giggle behind her. "Be my champion and get this crowd out of the way?"

She realized too late that her intended joke sounded like a bad pick-up line, but Cedric caught Blaise's grin and took it in good stride, laughing as he caught the attention of another prefect and started to disperse the crowd, letting the Fourth-Years get through and head to their Common Room.

The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a very obvious effect on the inhabitants of the castle. During the week leading up to the arrival of the other schools, the Triwizard Tournament seemed to be the only topic of conversation.

Rumours and theories were flying thicker and faster than raindrops in a hurricane: What he Tournament would entail, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would differ from themselves, potential ways for the Champions to be selected and for underage students to submit themselves. Still more included who was going to try for Hogwarts Champion and who would be chosen, although more than one student visiting Madam Pomfrey when arguments over the last turned into thrown hexes.

Every single adult in Hogwarts seemed determined to make a good impression on the foreign schools, to the extent that Roisin was tempted to label it 'Fanatical'.

Filch was polishing every doorknob, statue and suit of armour to within an inch of its existence. All of the ghosts, from Professor Binns to the Fat Friar, had ganged up to forbid Peeves from so much as throwing an ink-bomb.

* * *

When they went down to breakfast on October 30th, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each representing a Hogwarts House: Green with a Silver Snake for Slytherin, Blue with a Bronze Eagle for Ravenclaw, Yellow with a Black Badger for Hufflepuff and Red with a Gold Lion for Gryffindor.

Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger and snake united around a large letter 'H'.

Roisin had just finished adding stewed fruit to her porridge when Mary sat down beside her. "Hi Roisin! Do any of you have any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet? Thought any more about trying to enter?"

Roisin fixed Mary with her sternest Look. "No to both, and you'd best not be trying, either. Aunt Nessa and Uncle Michael would kill you, and then me for not preventing it!"

Mary pulled a face. "I wasn't planning to, though you'd be better telling that to Seamus."

Roisin paled and ran for the Gryffindor table, muttering about bloody headstrong, thought-they-were-invincible Gryffindors. She arrived just in time to hear the Trio talking with the Weasley twins about that exact topic. "…I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen, but she wasn't telling. She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

Roisin thought of a Weasley Twin (or even both, with the way they seemed an extension of each other) as Hogwarts Champion, and shuddered. She tuned back into the conversation as Ron suggested that he or Harry could probably complete the tasks, with all the dangerous things they had done before, and shuddered again. Shockingly, the other twin provided the voice of sanity. "Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't. McGonagall said that the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Asked Harry.

Predictably, Hermione had the answer. "Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel, because all of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on a rampage."

Roisin decided that now was a good time to interrupt. "That's certainly interesting. Have any of you seen my other cousin?"

Seamus Finnegan was sitting only a few seats away, so mentioning her younger cousin by name would only cause confusion. One of the Weasley Twins shook his head. "He was following us, but got caught on a changing staircase. He should be down soon, though."

Roisin nodded her thanks, grabbed a piece of buttered toast, and headed for the doors, planning to ambush Seamus and find a way to forbid him from even trying to enter the Tournament.

The promise of writing to Seamus's parents right then and there, and keeping him locked in his Dorm in a full body-bind until well after the Champions were chosen proved sufficient to make Seamus swear not to try and submit his name, and Roisin left for classes, thought the contagious air of anticipation made it hard to pay any real attention. She could only be thankful that as Potions would end early, they were stuck doing theory, as anything practical was likely to end in disaster.

* * *

When the bell rang to signal the end of classes, the Slytherins ran for their Common Room, sparing a brief thought of sympathy for the other Houses, who had to navigate all the way up to their towers, rather than simply down from the Entrance Hall.

Roisin dropped her bag and books on the floor next to her bed, trusting the House Elves to put it away, and beat Pansy on a rush for the showers, scrubbing to get rid of the smell of Potions Ingredients that never quite left the classroom. Ducking a mis-aimed drying charm from Desdemona, she quickly changed into clean robes, and waited impatiently for the others, before making their collective way to the Entrance hall.

They stood in houses, and Roisin could hear Professor McGonagall warning Lee Jordan and the Weasley Twins to behave, and instructing Parvati Patil to 'Take that ridiculous thing out of your hair!'

Not that their own house was fairing much better. Professor Snape was being his usual caustic self, "Mr. Goyle, are you a First Year? No? Then get back with your year mates. Miss O'Conner –" there was a slight pause as both of that title looked up. "The younger one! Stop giggling and compose yourself this instant!"

Unfortunately, Slytherin House was stuck standing next to Gryffindor, for unknown reasons, and the House of the Lions was not so calm, despite Professor McGonagall's glare. Refusing to let Draco goad anyone into a fight, especially with only a few minutes to 6 o'clock, Roisin switched places with him, pulling Desdemona along to help act as a barrier, just in time to hear a debate on how the schools would arrive. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The Train?"

Disorientation from changing Time zones, followed by several hours stuck on a train? Unlikely. Hermione arrived at the same conclusion. "I doubt it."

"How then? Broomsticks?" was Harry's contribution.

All the way from wherever Durmstrang was located in Eastern Europe? "I don't think so… not from that far away."

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested, "Or they could Apparate – maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from."

_Oh, not again…_ "You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?"

Not to mention that if you had to be of age to compete, the Beauxbatons delegation were all likely to be seventeen or over _anyway…_ The oncoming night was starting to make the air cold, and Roisin had the sneaking suspicion that the other schools were opting for either 'Fashionably Late' or 'Dramatic Entrance'. Either way, she wished that they'd get on with it.

Finally, Dumbledore called from where the teachers were standing at the very back. "Aha! Unless I am mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

_About time_! Many students were looking eagerly in different directions. "Where?"

"There!" shouted a sixth-year, pointing over the Forbidden Forest, where something large was hurtling across the darkening blue sky toward Hogwarts.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked a first-year that Roisin thought was Emma Dobbs, losing her head entirely.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!" That gem was courtesy of another first-year, whose mousy features marked him as a relative of that camera-wielding boy who kept following Harry around.

It was also grounds for all sorts of jokes, especially ones based on Gryffindor's House Mascot bearing a strong resemblance to the Cowardly Lion, but it turned out to be the closer guess. The shape was a carriage, almost as big as a house, drawn by a dozen winged palominos the size of elephants.

All of the First-Years, along with the front row of Second, drew back as the carriage flew ever lower, much faster than the broomsticks that Harry had suggested. Then, with an almighty crash that caused more than a few yelps as the front rows jumped back onto other students' feet, the horses' hooves, larger than serving dishes, hit the ground. The carriage landed a second later, bouncing on its vast wheels, and the sound of something inside smashing upon impact not quite drowned out by the golden horses shaking their huge heads and stamping.

A boy in blue robes jumped out, fumbled with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of carriage steps. Next came a shining, high-heeled black shoe the size of a child's sled, followed by the largest woman Roisin (or anyone else, most likely) had ever seen, which instantly explained the size of the carriage and horses.

The Dursley side of Roisin's family tended toward the large, so Roisin had seen her fair share of big people. Even so, the only person that Roisin had seen who came even close to this woman was Hagrid, and she doubted that there was an inch between them.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, she was revealed to be quite handsome, with olive skin, large, liquid-looking eyes, and a beaky nose. Her hair was drawn into a shiny knot at the base of her neck, and she was dressed head to toe in black satin, magnificent opals gleaming on her neck and fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap, echoed by the students, which mostly covered Draco's ill-advised remark of "Wow, Millie, that woman makes even you look small – OW!"

No girl likes being called large, regardless of whether or not it is true, so the yelp was justified as Millicent hit him, glaring. Roisin wondered if Draco would ever learn to keep his mouth shut.

The woman's face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked forward, extending a glittering hand to Dumbledore, who barely had to bend to kiss it. "My dear Madam Maxime. Welcome to Hogwarts."

The Headmistress's deep, rich voice somehow suited her size. "Dumbly-dorr, I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you." Dumbledore replied.

Draco opened his mouth, probably to make an even more ill-advised comment, most likely about Dumbledore's mental form, but closed it again when Theo elbowed him in the side.

"My pupils," said Madam Maxime, waving one enormous hand carelessly behind her.

Everyone's attention had previously been focused totally on the Headmistress, but now the Hogwarts students noticed a dozen boys and girls in their late teens, almost hidden in Madam Maxime's shadow. They were shivering, which was to be expected, as their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks, though a few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads.

Roisin was a little surprised at their attire, as they must have known that Hogwarts was located in the North of Scotland. This opinion was echoed by a Ravenclaw, standing on Slytherin House's other side. "You'd think that they'd dress for the weather. Don't any of them know a warming charm?"

If Madam Maxime heard that, she chose to ignore it. " 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?"

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him, or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a little?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madam Maxime. "But ze 'orses – "

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher would be delighted to take care of them," (yes) "the moment he returns from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of his other charges." (Oh, Lord, not those bloody Skrewts!)

"My steeds require – er – forceful 'andling," said Madam Maxime, looking as though she doubted that anyone at Hogwarts, teacher or not, was up to the job. "Zey are very strong…"

Somehow, Dumbledore remained smiling as he assured her that Hagrid was up to the job, and Madam Maxime bowed slightly. "Very well. Will you please inform zis 'Agrid that ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

Dumbledore also bowed as he assured her, and Madam Maxime beckoned her students inside, the Hogwarts crowd parting to let her through.

They remained standing, and Roisin applied a warming charm of her own as they waited for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most students looked to the sky, but Roisin doubted that both schools would do the same thing.

She was proven right as a muffled rumbling sound came from the lake, a giant whirlpool forming, from which emerged a magnificent, if slightly skeletal-looking galleon. It glided toward the bank, almost like a resurrected Ghost Ship, and there was the splash of an anchor being dropped, followed by the thud of a gangplank being lowered.

People were disembarking, all looking rather bulky, but as they drew nearer, Roisin could see that most of the bulk was due to the fact that the Durmstrang students _had _dressed for the weather, in thick, fur-lined cloaks and Slavic-looking hats.

The man who led them up to the castle was dressed much the same, but in sleek, silver furs, probably chosen to match his hair. He was tall and thin, like Dumbledore, but his hair and beard were mercifully short, rather than long and flowing. "Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice, and his smile did not reach his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "Dear old Hogwarts. How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore, Viktor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned to one of his students, who had a prominent nose and thick black eyebrows. Roisin frowned, trying to think of where she had seen him before, as gasps and whispers broke out. Finally, Ron provided the answer, though he was speaking to Harry at the time. "Harry, it's Krum!"

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_

* * *

_

A/N: I am so sorry it took this long, but with writer's block, job-hunting, and a hundred other things taking up my time, including other stories and my original novel, there just hasn't been time to finish a chapter that has spent nearly two months as half-written.

_The next chapter is also partially written, and I'll try to have it up by New Year's, but no promises._

_As always, Constructive Criticism is welcomed, but flames are laughed at._

_Thanks, Nat_


	49. Goblets and Guests

Disclaimer: Stating the obvious, but ff.n insists. I do not own Harry Potter

Summary: See previous chapters.

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* * *

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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The Durmstrang students gravitated to the Slytherin Table, probably because it was closest to the fire. Pulling off their heavy cloaks, they were looking around with interest, examining the starry black ceiling and golden plates and goblets, clearly impressed.

They certainly looked better than the Beauxbatons students, who were clustered at the Ravenclaw Table, looking miserable. A few were still clutching shawls and scarves about them. Roisin was a bit surprised to hear a Durmstrang boy mutter in a heavy accent, though she didn't catch all of it. "Stop vhining… bring a cloak… not that cold."

Draco leaned in front of Theo, who elbowed him in the ribs, over to where Victor Krum sat, greeting the Quidditch star in fluent German, which was the main language at Durmstrang. None of the Fourth Years complained too much, as Draco was the only one who could speak it without an almost incomprehensible accent, but it was hard to miss the scorching looks from the other tables, particularly Gryffindor around the general area of Ron Weasley.

Roisin, like many Slytherins and most of Ravenclaw, had been brushing up on her French and German, but was far better at the written language than the spoken, and couldn't actually say much beyond the basic greetings, along with 'My name is _', a few swear words, and 'Do you speak _'. She still had her Translation Rune Charm, but considered that to be cheating for casual conversation.

Up at the staff table, Filch was setting out four extra chairs. This was surprising, as there were only two visiting school Heads, but Roisin wasn't about to make Hogwarts and herself look bad by admitting ignorance, and remained silent.

When everyone had settled down at their House Table (and wherever the visiting students chose to sit), the staff entered, taking their seats at the head table. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Madam Maxime, and Professor Karkaroff. When their Headmistress entered, the pupils from Beauxbatons leaped to their feet, startling several Ravenclaws.

Roisin found it a bit odd, but guessed that it was some kind of respect for authority, and therefore didn't laugh, unlike a few less-well-mannered students. Thankfully, the Beauxbatons students remained entirely unembarrassed, and did not resume their seats until Madam Maxime had sat down, re-enforcing Roisin's assumption.

Dumbledore remained standing, however, and silence fell over the Great Hall. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

A Beauxbatons girl, still clutching a muffler around her head, gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. Roisin reminded herself that it was probably just travel-stress and jet-lag speaking, and that one did not hex visitors, no matter how impolite they were being. She was reassured when another Beauxbatons student aimed a glare at the first, hissing that she was making the rest of them look bad.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, acted as though he had not heard. "The Tournament will be opened officially at the end of the Feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home.

As usual, the dishes before them filled with food. The kitchen House Elves had clearly pulled out all of the stops, as there was a much wider variety than usual, many of them dishes that Roisin had never even heard of before, and were clearly intended to make the foreign students feel more at home. Desdemona, sitting opposite her, took a tiny amount of what looked like shellfish stew, eyeing it cautiously. Pansy, sitting beside Desdemona, smirked at her. "Honestly, Desdemona, it isn't going to bite you."

The girl took a slice of Black Pudding, aiming her next remark at Roisin. "Perhaps Roisin shouldn't have been worrying so much about her Ancient Runes assignment; that's three out of four so far. Are you sure you don't want to take Divination?"

Roisin and Desdemona both aimed glares at their room-mate, which Pansy regally ignored in favor of tasting the new dish. "This is very nice. What is it?"

Pansy could be notoriously squeamish with anything that involved blood, and Roisin grabbed the perfect opportunity for payback. She smiled sweetly. "I think that it's mostly congealed domestic animal blood, with a few other ingredients to thicken it up."

Pansy, who had just finished swallowing a fourth bite, turned pale. Roisin failed to look innocent. Desdemona and a Durmstrang girl on Roisin's other side both giggled, before the Durmstrang girl aimed an unkind look at the other end of the table.

Following her glare, Roisin rolled her eyes as she saw a few of the sillier girls in her house blush and giggle as Krum asked them to pass the apple pie. They weren't nearly as bad as the ones in the other Houses, but she supposed being completely free of giggling bints was too much for any House to ask for.

Draco looked as annoyed as the Durmstrang girl, because he was finding it hard to eat with the older Slytherins constantly leaning over or in front of him. Figuring that now was as good a time as any to start making interschool connections, Roisin moved a little closer to the girl. "My sympathies. You must get this sort of thing all school year round."

The girl looked startled for a moment, before replying in a slightly accented voice. "_Da._ Silly girls should get to know Viktor. He is not so awe-inspiring when off ze broom."

Roisin smiled. "Now, if we can just pound that into their heads before the year is over, things will be a lot more pleasant. Or am I being too optimistic?"

The Durmstrang girl laughed. "There have been greater expectations. I am Yelena Rasputin. It is well to meet you."

Roisin smiled again. "My name is Roisin O'Conner. Fourth Year. You shouldn't have any concerns about injuries if you get named Champion, then?"

Yelena tilted her head in consideration. "That may be first time anyone has heard my name and responded with joke. I have a few concerns, but my family is very good with defensive spells, and I am my father's best pupil. What of you?"

Speaking of jokes, Roisin grimaced slightly, hoping that no-one would be stupid enough to make '_Sturm und Drang_' jokes on the first night, (even if they _were_ funny) and quickly moved on. "My parents are not skilled with magic, but the O'Conner clan tends to be widely varied in skills. I have a friend who is lethal in dueling using only household spells, for example. My best skills are in Potions and subtle, behind the scenes influence. One of my cousins is a Gryffindor, and excels mainly on getting on people's nerves and driving them to distraction, but his twin sister is brilliant in Charms and getting him out of trouble."

Yelena nodded sympathetically, with the martyred look of one who is idolized and therefore constantly followed by younger relations. "We all have relations who seem intent on driving us mad. I am only thankful that my youngest sister can not follow me here."

Roisin knew the feeling, and tried not to blame Yelena for the nightmares she was going to have at the thought of Dudley following her to Hogwarts. She quickly changed the subject, "So, what is it like, learning at Durmstrang? I hear that the curriculum is very different to Hogwarts, and it would be interesting to compare."

Yelena's reply was put on hold at a choking noise from a nearby fifth year boy. Concerned, they turned to see what the problem was, and saw him fixated on a Beauxbatons girl with long, white-blonde hair who was walking across the room, carrying a dish from the Gryffindor Table, and drawing every male eye in the Hall. Even Blaise, who was notoriously indifferent to almost every girl aside from Roisin and his female friends, was looking appreciative. "Veela, or at least part. She has to be, with looks like that."

Roisin discreetly elbowed him in the side, perhaps a bit harder than was strictly necessary. "You can put your eyes back in your head whenever you feel like it, _Dear._"

Blaise caught the emphasis in both endearment and elbow, and directed his attention back to his plate as Pansy gave a disdainful sniff. "Half-Breed, I'm sure."

Roisin caught the double-meaning, but the middle of the Great Hall during a feast was not the time for a reprimand in regards to Pansy's long-ingrained prejudice. She ignored it in favor of looking at the two newcomers who had just appeared. "Hey, look. It's Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch."

Desdemona twisted in her seat to look. "I wonder what they're doing here."

The puddings appeared, and Blaise homed in on a thin, cinnamon covered, long piece of pastry that Roisin vaguely recognized as a Spanish donut, sitting next to a dish of Bavarian Cream. "Well, they arranged the Tournament, right? Perhaps they want to watch the opening."

Yelena took a spoonful of what looked like pears baked in honey with some kind of red cream. "Perhaps they are the other judges. Honningpære med hindbæfløle?"

Roisin took a bite, and decided that she wasn't above begging the House Elves for the recipe. Conversation slowed as everyone enjoyed dessert, and looked forward to the official start of the Tournament. By the time the pudding faded, and Dumbledore stood up again, a pleasant sort of tension had filled the hall. Roisin felt a thrill of excitement run down her spine, wondering what was coming. All around her, she could see and sense other students, regardless of age or house, leaning forward, staring intently at Dumbledore, who smiled around at the sea of upturned faces. "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket – "

"The what?" Desdemona whispered. Roisin hushed her, shrugging in bewilderment.

" – just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But firstly, let me introduce, for those of you who do not know them, Mr. Bartemious Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-Operation," (a slight smattering of applause) "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman, who acknowledged it with a cheerful wave. Mr. Crouch did not smile or wave, which was perhaps part of the reason for the more subdued clapping. He reminded Roisin of her father's boss, who was known not so much for running the company, as for making young children burst into terrified tears when they were introduced to him.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madam Maxime on the panel which will judge the Champion's efforts."

Yelena looked pleased at having guessed correctly, and at the word 'champions', everyone's attentiveness seemed to sharpen even more than it already was. Perhaps Dumbledore noticed the sudden stillness, for he smiled. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch approached the Dais, carrying a great wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It looked very old, and a murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students, a few of the smaller ones actually standing up to see properly. Over the noise, Roisin heard Greg whisper to Vince. "It's pretty, but there's nothing magical about it. How's a box going to pick a champion?"

Roisin rolled her eyes, feeling almost gratified at the dull '_whack'_ that was probably Draco hitting him upside the head. "The Instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the Champions in many different ways… their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

The Hall was so silent that no-one appeared to be breathing. Actually, that wasn't just a figure of speech, as a young Ravenclaw was turning a faint shade of blue. His friend elbowed him in the stomach to make him breathe again, the '_whoosh' _of air covered by Dumbledore's voice. "As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform the tasks, and the champion with the highest total at the end of the three tasks will win the TriWizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector… the Goblet of Fire!"

Dumbledore took out his wand, tapping three times on the casket, which creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached in and pulled out a roughly-hewn goblet, totally unremarkable – if you discounted the blue flames that filled it to the brim. He closed the casket and placed the Goblet of Fire carefully on top, visible to the entire Hall.

"Anyone wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a piece of parchment, and drop it into the Goblet. Aspiring Champions have 24 hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

Whispers ran around the Great Hall, many of them from clearly underage students plotting to submit their names. Dumbledore ignored them as he continued. "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this Tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a Champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obligated to see it through until the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding Magical Contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become Champion. Please be very sure that you are whole-heartedly prepared to play, before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

Roisin pushed her chair back and stood up. "Well, there's tomorrow's entertainment sorted; we sit in the Entrance Hall and laugh at what happens to underage idiots who disregard warnings. Where is your group sleeping, by the way? Are you bunking with one of the houses, or do you have your own accommodation?"

The last was addressed to Yelena, who had barely opened her mouth to reply when Karkaroff bustled up, fussing over Viktor Krum as he hurried his students back to their ship. Yelena smiled at Roisin and Blaise. "I will see you tomorrow. Perhaps you can show us around the school?"

Roisin smiled back. "I would love to. Sometime after lunch, perhaps?"

* * *

Warning and Age-Line or not, it was a given that several underage students were going to try their luck anyway. Curious as to what methods the would-be champions would attempt, Roisin woke up earlier than usual and poked Desdemona awake. For once not complaining about being woken up so early, Desdemona followed her down to where the Goblet of Fire was waiting, running into Luna on the way, and sat down to watch the morning entertainment.

With the number of students wanting to submit their name, many of them actually of age, there was often a lull between amusing reactions. To pass the time, Roisin pulled out a book, Luna took the latest edition of the _Quibbler _from an owl that was less than happy at having to go searching for her, and Desdemona started a game of Solitaire, thankfully with normal, non-Exploding cards.

Attempting to get an older student to submit your name for you resulted in both students being dive-bombed by miniature paper airplanes. Anyone trying to levitate their name into the Goblet of Fire wound up floating near the ceiling for a few minutes, before gently drifting down. An older student attempting to submit their name more than once had the amusing effect of being forcefully ejected from the circle and bombarded with tiny paper-Mache figures about the size of Roisin's smallest fingernail. Picking one of the figures up as the student in question fled, Roisin giggled when she saw that it was a perfect replica of the Goblet of Fire.

The least harmful, but most amusing, was to anyone who tried to take an Aging Potion. Aside from the fact that most had been forced to brew the complex potion themselves, and therefore ended up looking anything from seventeen to their fifties, attempting to cross the Age line saw them sporting a long, white beard, which looked even funnier on the female students.

A Ravenclaw that Luna identified as Lynn Fawcett was a shining example of trying to age yourself up, actually tripping over her beard as she sulked off to visit Madam Pomfrey. As Roisin had seen the girl helping Luna's room-mates with research to counter Luna's various protective measures, she made sure to laugh harder than usual and loudly remark about sending Colin Creevy up with his camera. Fawcett was so busy glaring at her that she tripped over the beard a second time, crashing into the trio of Gryffindor chasers who had just entered and flattening Katie Bell, who gave her friends an exasperated look as she carted the Ravenclaw away.

The same thing happened when Cedric submitted his name only a minute later, to much cheering, closely followed by a third-year, who flew an impressive twelve feet before bouncing to a halt. Cedric helped the boy to his feet. "Come on, Summers. Let's see if Madam Pomfrey will take care of it."

The Gryffindor Trio entered not long after that, with Ron somehow managing to completely miss both Roisin and Desdemona as he addressed Luna's general direction. "Anyone put their name in yet?"

Luna opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by another third year, who had arrived less than five minutes ago, just as the Durmstrang group had come through. "All the Durmstrang lot, but I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

Roisin was about to remind the girl that she hadn't been in the Hall long enough to see anyone, but was forestalled by the arrival of the Unholy Trio of Lee Jordan and the Weasley Twins. The spokes twin's gleeful expression was one that usually preceded an epic prank, and made Roisin instinctively cast a shield charm.

Thankfully, the joke was on them, this time. One twin (Roisin could never be sure which one) walked up to the age line and paused, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop, drawing they eyes of everyone in the Hall. He took a deep breath, and stepped over the line.

For a second, nothing happened. The other twin let out a yell of triumph and leaped to join his twin – just in time for the rejection spell to catch him, too. The twins were thrown out of the circle, landing several feet away with long, white beards growing over their faces. Roisin burst into helpless laughter, and was knocked flat on her face as Desdemona laughed hard enough to topple off her perch on a statue and landed on Roisin and Luna, sending all three girls to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Roisin pushed Desdemona off her and scrambled back to her feet as Dumbledore's amused voice filled the Hall. "I did warn you. I suggest that you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom tried to age themselves up a little, too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

That was because Summers had been sensible enough to ask Cedric to use a severing charm on the lower half of his beard, and Fawcett's was probably looking rather scraggly from tripping over it all the way up to the Hospital wing. (Katie had refused to put up with the other girl's whining and returned after only a few minutes, relating the tale to her fellow chasers, who had waited for her return. Apparently, she and Alicia were acting as morale support for Angelina, who had turned seventeen only last week.)

* * *

When the novelty of watching the Goblet of Fire finally wore off in the late morning, so when Luna admitted to needing to find some missing homework, but refused the offer of help, Roisin tracked down Yelena and offered to show the Durmstrang Students around Hogwarts.

Rounding the lake in the late afternoon, the small group paused to watch a slightly battered-looking Beauxbatons boy head toward the carriage where the French students were staying. From behind Roisin, Yelena asked the inevitable question, "What happened to him?"

Roisin squinted to get a better look at the boy. Oh, it was him. "If I'm right, that's the idiot who thinks that innuendos about the Eiffel Tower residing somewhere other than in Paris makes for a good pick up line. Despite warnings from pretty much everyone in the castle, he still hasn't picked up that girls are well within their rights to curse him for it."

Ravenclaw had born the brunt of it during last night's feast, until Padma Patil had actually snuck over to the Gryffindor table to complain and warn her twin about it. Parvati had told Lavender, who had passed word to everyone else. Given that even Greg and Vince only ever needed one or two hexes to get the picture, yet this boy hadn't caught on that his pick up lines didn't work, Roisin found herself wondering why Beauxbatons had thought this boy a good potential champion.

Another student, who had been introduced as 'Piotr Poliakoff', looked at the Beauxbatons boy and took his chances. "Vouldn't that be against school rules?"

Roisin shook her head. "No. It's in accordance with them, actually. '_In case of inappropriate and/or unwanted advances, and in case of verbal implications against their good name, a young witch may respond in whatever she deems an appropriate manner to protect her person and her reputation'. _It was added sometime in the Regency Period, when even a rumour against a woman's reputation could irrevocably harm both herself and her family."

The Durmstrang students were clearly faster on the uptake than the Beauxbatons ones, and got the implications. Wands were a great equalizer, after all. Viktor Krum summarized it in a few words. "Ouch. Is that not harsh?"

Roisin shrugged. "From the records, letting the witch take care of things significantly cut down on the number of formal duels or even feuds that would spring up between young wizards when a female relative was insulted or slandered. Having the offender hexed in severity to match the insult, and spending a bit of time with the nurse, was much easier than several students beating each other up and being stuck in the hospital wing for days."

It did make sense, both then and now, but Piotr brought up a last question. "But couldn't the vizard complain?"

Roisin shook her head. "Only if it causes permanent damage or goes over a certain level. And really, if the witch used anything over that level properly, you wouldn't be able to complain in the first place. The only case I can think of was when a boy was stopped just short of sexual assault by a well-placed severing charm, and his parents were upset because he was the only male child, and his sister was still a toddler."

The Durmstrang students picked up on _that_ implication, too, and several went pale. Sasha, another Durmstrang boy, who Yelena had identified as an 'incurably risk-taking hot-shot who does not know when to quit', felt the need to assert himself. "It cannot be that severe. Do you mind if I test it?" He didn't wait for an answer, but slung an arm around Roisin's shoulders, "Ze winters are very cold at Durmstrang. Vould you like me to show you how ve keep varm?"

The attempted pick-up trailed off into a soprano shriek as Roisin elbowed him in the stomach and aimed a shrinking charm between his legs. "Yes, it can, and no, I wouldn't. It'll wear off in a day or so."

The Champions would be chosen in only a few hours, so it was time for Roisin to head back to the castle, and the Durmstrang students to wait on their ship. Turning to leave, Roisin hesitated, and then forged ahead. "Listen, can I ask a favor?"

The Durmstrang students exchanged glances, and Yelena nodded. "You may ask."

How to phrase this delicately? "You and the Beauxbatons students are all here to represent your schools, but we have every student from every House, and Rivalries are going to be running very strong for something like this. I was hoping that, whichever House produces the Hogwarts Champion, you could join in the cheering for them? I'd be doing the same, naturally, but it looks bad if I'm the only one doing so without being preceded by a yelp from being kicked under the table."

* * *

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed from last night. As it was Halloween, hundreds of carved giant pumpkins loomed in the corners, and a cloud of live bats fluttered around the enchanted ceiling. Every now and then, a shriek would be heard when a student would cast a summoning charm, and a bat would zoom down, as though attacking.

The Goblet had been moved to in front of Dumbledore's chair. The feast seemed somehow longer than usual. Perhaps it was because it was the second feast in two days, or perhaps it was the almost visible anticipation in the air. At long last, the golden plates returned to their spotless condition, and the noise level spiked abruptly, then died away as Dumbledore stood up.

On either side of him Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at everyone. Mr. Crouch, in startling contrast, looked quite uninterested, if not outright bored.

Dumbledore finally broke the silence. "Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires only one more minute. Now, when the Champions names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber - " he indicated the door behind the staff table, " – where they will receive their first instructions."

He drew out his wand in a great, sweeping wave, extinguishing all the candles except the ones in the pumpkins, plunging the Great Hall into an eerie sort of semi-darkness. The blue flames in the Goblet of Fire shone even brighter in the darkness, almost painful to look at as it drew every eye in the Hall. Everyone watched, waiting… a few attempted to check their watches, unable to see the numbers in the gloom.

The flames in the Goblet suddenly turned red again, and sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, and a charred piece of parchment fluttered into Dumbledore's hand. He held it at arm's length, so it was illuminated by the again-blue flames of the Goblet. "The Champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall as Viktor rose from the Slytherin table and went to wait in the chamber. Roisin softly patted Yelena's arm. "I'm sorry. I think you would have been a great Champion."

Yelena tried for a casual shrug, spoiled by the tremble in her voice. "Is not the end of world. I will have other opportunities to prove myself as great."

She tried to disguise a sniffle as a cough, with limited success. Roisin let her have her pride, passing her a napkin. "You have a speck on your cheek, just under your eye."

The clapping and chanting died down, and everyone's attention turned back to the Goblet, which had flared red again. A second piece of parchment flew out, propelled by the flames. "The Champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

More cheering, especially from the males, erupted as the part-veela stood, shaking back her long hair as she glided to the staff table and behind it, to join Viktor. Several of her fellows did not take it as well as Yelena had, bursting into tears.

Silence fell again, so stiff with excitement that you could almost taste it. Finally, the Hogwarts Champion was about to be chosen…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more, sparks almost flowing out of it, a burst of flame shooting high into the air, and a third piece of parchment. "The Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory!"

All of Hufflepuff jumped to their feet, screaming, cheering and applauding as Cedric made his way up the hall and down the staff table, grinning broadly. They were echoed a moment later by Durmstrang and, after a few pained yelps, by most of Slytherin's Third- and Fourth-Year, (Mary and Rolf Scamander had both been in on Roisin's plan) and by Luna, whose support guilted one or two Ravenclaws to join in.

All in all, it was quite some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. "Excellent! Well, now we have our three Champions. I am sure that I can count on all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your Champions every ounce of support you can muster – "

Suddenly, Dumbledore stopped speaking, and it was obvious to everyone what had distracted him. The fire in the Goblet had turned red again. _Impossible. _Sparks were shooting out of it. _Had something gone wrong?_ A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and born upon it was another piece of parchment. _How? There were only meant to be three…_

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out and caught the parchment. There was a long pause, in which nobody moved or spoke. Then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out –

"_**Harry Potter.**"_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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A/N: Some of you may recognize part of this chapter from 'A Sarcastic Git's Golden Rules at Hogwarts' one of the greatest Harry Potter humor fics I have ever read, but which has unfortunately been discontinued. Being away from internet access and then totally exhausted by the time I got back means that this chapter came slightly later than I had intended, but at least it's up.

_As always, Reviews and Constructive Criticism are welcomed, but Flames are ignored. If you have a question, please login so that I can actually answer. It's very irritating when someone asks a question and I have no way of contacting them to reply._


	50. Champions, Plus One

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._  
_Summary: See previous chapters._  
_Note: People have been asking me how to pronounce Roisin's name. There are a number of ways, as with every name, but the most common are '**ROY-sin**' and '**ross- EEN**'. If you've already come up with your own pronunciation, feel free to keep using that._

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* * *

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CHAPTER FIFTY

She knew it!

Roisin knew that the year had been going far too quietly; of course it was only the calm before the bloody storm! Harry had been five the last time he had enjoyed a quiet Halloween, so why should that change now?

It almost made Roisin wish that they were back in the Muggle world. The worst thing there had been the house-fire at Number Five when they were eight, or the ruptured pipeline and minor flooding of the entire street the year before Hogwarts. (The bit of vandalism when they were nine, swiftly driven off by the shouting of an irate Fionna, or Roisin's broken arm and fractured ankle at age six and seven, respectively, both thanks to Aunt Marge's dog, was less noteworthy, though you'd never have known it, by the way her parents carried on.)

Hogwarts, on the other hand, brought attacks by Trolls, Slytherin's Heir via a basilisk, and wrongly-convicted mass-murderers. Now it had escalated into being unwillingly entered into a Magical Contest with an insanely high mortality rate.

She didn't think that Harry was the one responsible for his name being entered into the Goblet of Fire, naturally. His expression of shell-shocked horror was proof enough of that, as was the surprise clear from Ron and Hermione, neither of whom would have been excluded.

Really, if you thought about it that was more proof of Harry's innocence right there. The Brains of the Trio would never have allowed such blatant rule-breaking, especially for such a stupid and dangerous reason, and even with her help, three Fourth-Year students never would have been able to trick such an old and powerful magical object, whose sole purpose was to select only THREE champions.

Looking as though he were sleepwalking, disconnected from reality, Harry stumbled up to the Teacher's Table, past it to the little room, and disappeared out of sight. Taking advantage of the few seconds of silence, Dumbledore stepped forward and ordered them all to bed.

* * *

As soon as the wall closed behind them, all of Slytherin was in an uproar, and Roisin would lay money on the other Houses being in similar states.

Gryffindor was almost certainly throwing a party over the whole fiasco, ignoring the obvious future consequences in light of potential House Glory, while Hufflepuff was most likely torn between celebrating a Hufflepuff Champion, and fury at the fact that there were four. Hogwarts students or not, they were Hufflepuffs first, and Hufflepuff meant Fair Play, even if it made them lose the contest. Roisin wouldn't be surprised if a few of them tried to apologize to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang on behalf of Hogwarts, regarding the whole mess.

Ravenclaw had cause to be doubly furious, as not only had they not been chosen, but an academically average Gryffindor (not even the intelligent one!) had managed to get past the age line, when several of their own had failed spectacularly. Madam Pince was in for a lot of visitors as soon as the library opened the next morning.

Seated in front of the fire, with Blaise's arm over her shoulders as she leaned into his side, Roisin reminded herself that this was no time for amusement, no matter how entertaining Draco appeared, pacing angrily and waving his arms (it would probably be more impressive when he was taller and left the gangly stage) as he ranted about 'Bloody Potter getting past the rules _again_' and 'Probably won't even get punished for it!'

The rest of the House was a bit divided. The First-Years, having only been at Hogwarts for a few months, didn't see what all the fuss was about, aside from neither Champion being from Slytherin.

The Second- and Third-Years joined in the general disappointment at a Hufflepuff champion and anger that not only was the second Champion a Gryffindor, but was, yet again, getting away with breaking the rules. If Hogwarts had to have an illegal second Champion, you'd think it would be from Slytherin.

Fourth-Year… well, Draco had been making his opinion clear for the last half-hour, and Roisin was too busy being worried for her cousin to be the usual Voice of Reason.

Fifth-, Sixth-, and Seventh-Year were busy trying to figure out how Harry had got past the protections, and furthermore, how the hell he had managed it without them noticing in the first place!

The House had kept someone watching the Goblet until Curfew that night, at which point they were relieved. The Slytherin Prefects had first and last shifts on the first floor last night, and had bribed the Hufflepuff on the midnight shift to switch with them, leaving the Prefects in perfect position to ignore the other Slytherins setting up a watch on the Goblet from curfew to breakfast, after which point the Goblet of Fire was constantly surrounded by people from every House, and _someone_ would have noticed if Harry Potter had wound up on the wrong end of one of the Goblet of Fire's rejection methods.

Then there was the matter of how he could have entered, when the collective Houses of both the Brainy and Cunning had failed. All in all, if you put aside the blindfold of indignation, it was starting to look very much like a sinister plot, similar to the ones that had dogged Harry's steps since his arrival at Hogwarts.

Draco finally paused for breath, and Blaise jumped at the opportunity to interrupt. "While that is all very interesting, I think that there's more to it. We had a watch on that thing the entire time, and unless Potter has access to Polyjuice Potion, he never went near enough to try."

Pansy, of all people, backed him up. "Blaise has a point. Besides, Potter is a lousy actor, and no one could fake that kind of reaction. Granger and Weasley are even worse liars, and anyone can see that they weren't in on it."

Draco had to reluctantly concede that point, and Blaise stood up, offering his hand to Roisin. "Well, the Prefects are either celebrating or sulking, and Professor Snape was muttering something about an emergency teacher's conference. Shall we take advantage and go for a walk, Rose? You look like you need a distraction from worrying."

Roisin smiled back as they slipped out, the wall closing behind them. Yes, she could definitely use a distraction right now. "Only if you think you're up to it."

* * *

The next morning saw Roisin headed for Gryffindor Tower, running straight into Hermione, who was carrying some toast in a napkin, on the way. Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Come to find out how Harry entered and start throwing accusations, have you?"

Roisin narrowed her eyes right back, "Don't take that tone with me! I came up to see how he was doing, because he looked like he was in shock last night, but I didn't get the chance to ask him then!"

Hermione's glare softened. "Sorry. It's just that everyone, even the Gryffindors, won't even think about the possibility that Harry didn't enter, and the other Houses won't listen to anything other than accusations of cheating."

Roisin nodded, accepting the other girl's reasons for hostility. "Then you'll be pleased to know that most of Slytherin is just angry that he was chosen and is trying to figure out how. I'm just worried that this will shape up to be yet another life-threatening plot."

Hermione looked pleasantly surprised. "You don't think that he entered and is trying to break the rules? No offence, but most people expect that you would be the first to jump on that bandwagon."

Roisin waved a dismissive hand. "We've been watching that thing since the moment it was ignited, and people will remember the 'Binding Magical Contract' bit once they calm down a little."

Hermione's relief was as obvious as her dismay last night. "Oh, thank God. No-one else seems to have grasped that, and even Ron is throwing a jealous fit."

Roisin blinked in surprise. Ron might be a prejudiced idiot with an inferiority complex, but she had thought better of him. "Do you think that Ron's brothers may have used him as a substitute Quaffle when he was a baby?"

Hermione looked confused. "A substi – where did that come from? Why?"

Roisin sighed. "Because there are only so many times a person can be dropped on their head before it stops being an accident, and Ron has clearly passed that point."

Hermione's laughter carried the two girls the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower, and she got herself under control just in time for the portrait to open and Harry to come out, looking miserable. Seeing Roisin, he stopped short, miserable changing to defensive. Roisin sighed again. "Let's get this over with. The Brains of your operation didn't know about it, and there's no way you could have made it past the Age Line by yourself, even if we hadn't had someone watching it the entire time. Anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot."

Harry blinked in surprise at the admittedly blunt delivery. "Ah… Thanks?"

He spotted Hermione, who held out the toast she was carrying. "Hello. I brought you this… want to go for a walk outside?"

"Good idea."

* * *

Thankfully, most people were either still at breakfast, or taking advantage of the weekend by sleeping in, probably after staying up most of last night. The three students made it outside with little fuss, and were soon headed toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored.

Spotting Yelena and knowing that Harry's best friend would be of more comfort and knowledge of what was happening right now, Roisin waved, hugged her cousin, and headed off to try and spread the should-have-been-obvious facts.

Yelena snapped something in Russian, and the gangplank lowered, allowing Roisin on board. For a few second, both girls searched for words, until Yelena got straight to the point. "Potter seemed neither expectant nor pleased to be Chosen, and Viktor says that he claims to have not entered. What do you know of it?"

No skipping around the subject, at least. "I know that Harry never wanted to be in this Tournament. I know that my House had a watch on the Goblet since it was revealed. I know that he has no way out of the contest, thanks to a Magical Contract. I know that he is scared, even if he won't admit it. I know that most of the school is being idiots about it and I know that there is going to be Hell to pay. That's it so far."

A faint smile touched Yelena's lips. "We know much the same, though we had to rely on scrying spells. We support our own Champion, but we are not against either of yours. Your cousin has nothing to fear from us aside from humiliating defeat."

Roisin's smile was wider, and filled with relief. "Thank you. Now all I have to do is beat that into the other schools. Having two Champions is really not to our advantage right now, so far as school unity goes."

A brief walk to the Beauxbatons Carriage resulted in yet another encounter with the French Idiot, as the boy with the bad pick-up lines was starting to be known. Hexing him absently, Roisin decided to try another day, and went to re-join Harry and Hermione, finding them in the Owlery, writing a letter to Sirius.

"You might want to use a different Owl, Harry. Hedwig is very recognizable, and what with the Tournament, people are going to be paying even more attention than usual to anything to do with you."

Harry was clearly reluctant, but had to agree, reaching for a school owl as Hedwig, who had already drifted over and held out her leg, took off with an annoyed hoot so suddenly that her talons dug into his shoulder as she soared out of reach.

Of course, this didn't help Harry's mood, either. "First Ron, then you! _This isn't my fault!_"

* * *

Roisin thought that it would only take a few days for cooler heads to start thinking, but she was proven wrong. Roisin, Hermione and Durmstrang were the only ones who acted like they believed that Harry hadn't entered. If anyone else had gained enough working brain-cells to come to the same conclusion, they were keeping it to themselves.

The other Slytherins knew better, but their rivalry with Gryffindor had caused them to side with the rest of the school in being very un-impressed that Harry had somehow become a fourth Champion. Even knowing (and to an extent, understanding) the various reactions in advance, Roisin found herself surprised at the intensity of how the rest of the school was acting.

Hufflepuff was easily understandable. While they usually got along well with Gryffindor, they were now acting very coolly toward the lot of them. It was very obvious that they felt that Harry had stolen Cedric's glory as a Champion. It couldn't have helped that Hufflepuff seldom got any glory at all, even if it wasn't a top priority for most of them, and that this would have been the second time Cedric would have brought them into the spotlight, the first having been in Quidditch last year.

The Slytherins, as usual, had no intention of making things any easier, as demonstrated only a few days later in Care of Magical Creatures. Doing her best to ignore the inevitable fight, Roisin focussed on calming Pansy, who had developed a perfectly reasonable phobia of the Skrewts, as they approached Hagrid's Cabin. Draco, predictably, waltzed over with a firmly fixed sneer. "Ah, look boys, it's the Champion! Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I don't think he's going to be around much longer… half the Triwizard Champions have died… how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? About ten minutes into the First Task is my guess."

That was taking things more than a little far, and Roisin diverted her attention for a moment. "Knock it off, Draco. Shouldn't we be a lot more worried about the bloody Skrewts?"

As it turned out, she was right. Hagrid believed that the Skrewts, which had developed thick, shiny greyish armour, were suffering from an excess of pent-up energy, and that the ideal solution was for the class to pick up a leash and take them for a nice short walk.

Apparently, he somehow missed the class's obvious horror at the suggestion, as well as Millicent lunging forward to catch Pansy as she swayed and nearly fainted. Roisin wondered if doing the same thing would get her out of class for the day. Blaise was clearly thinking along the same lines, as he leaned down to whisper to her, "You faint, and I'll kick up a fuss about how my much beloved girlfriend is clearly unwell and needs to go to the Hospital Wing."

They were beaten to the punch by Lavender Brown and Dean Thomas, who were promptly thwarted by Hagrid asking Hermione to revive the girl, and telling them to get on with the day's task. The only good thing was that it distracted Draco. "Take this thing for a walk? And where are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating with the air of one who thinks that it should have been obvious. "Er – yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, as an extra precaution."

Reluctantly, everyone did as they were told. The lesson was not made any better by Ron having forgotten his gloves and being vocally annoyed when the more prepared students refused to share, or by the fact that in addition to their size, the Skrewts had also grown in strength. Roisin was already struggling to control her Skrewt, when the end exploded and the damn thing shot forward, causing her to be yanked off her feet and dragged several meters through the mud before she managed to regain her feet.

* * *

The day had started off horribly when Roisin overslept and missed half of breakfast, and only looked to be shaping up to get worse when she was stopped by a group of Hufflepuffs, led by Zach Smith. Not a little stressed over the past few days, Roisin closed her eyes and drew on her dwindling reservoirs of patience. "What do you want?"

One of the Hufflepuffs she didn't know smiled brightly. "We've been making badges. Look!"

They were, on closer inspection, all wearing badges, which proclaimed:

_Support Cedric Diggory,  
__The REAL Hogwarts Champion._

Roisin gave them a flat look. "Cute. Why are you bothering me with this? I'm _really_ not in the mood."

Zach grinned and pressed the badge, which turned red, the message changing to read: _POTTER STINKS!_

Roisin was even less impressed than before. "Nice charm work. Again, why did you feel the need to annoy me about this? You do realize that it is juvenile at best, or bullying and outright stupidity at worst?"

Ernie Macmillan scowled. "Because Potter should know what the rest of the world thinks of him. Are you going to support the proper Champion, or do you like cheering on the illegal one?"

Usually, Ernie's pompous manner could be ignored, but right now was the exception. Roisin hexed him, and then incinerated the box of badges. A fight broke out just in time for Professor Sprout to show up and give everyone involved a detention.

Checking the time, Roisin sulked off to Arithmancy.

* * *

Arithmancy was bittersweet in that she gained full marks for her predictions, while the others, (many of whom had taken their cues from classmates who took Divination, and predicted Doom and Gloom, to be on the safe side) had not done so well. Hermione's predictions had also come true, but had been a lot more vague, causing both of the Professors to mark her down, which added up to put the other witch in a spectacularly bad mood.

In contrast, it also put Roisin in a very good mood, which lasted all the way through Charms. Charms did not go quite as well as Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, as they were learning the Summoning Charm, which was not difficult in theory, but still took Roisin most of the class to get right. For some reason, the things she was trying to summon always lost heart half way between their starting point and Roisin's desk. Of course, that was why it had to have been an accident that she summoned Ron's textbook enough for it to hit him in the stomach and fall onto the floor, but that was beside the point.

Anyway, these things only cause trouble if they can prove you did it with malicious intent, and all it did was wind the idiot enough to shut him up for five minutes.

On second thought, that might have had something to do with why Professor Flitwick didn't bother to punish her, or even hand out extra homework, over the incident.

Roisin's rush to breakfast that morning had resulted in forgetting her Potions homework, and a hasty detour to the Common Room to retrieve it, along with the rest of the day's due assignments. She arrived outside the Potions classroom just in time to see a fight, anticipated and thwarted in Care of Magical Creatures, break out between Harry and Draco.

Draco and the other Slytherins were showing off the same badges that had so irritated Roisin that morning. Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for his supposed 'best friend', either. The red-head promptly went even further down in Roisin's esteem as she rearranged her posture into her best 'keep-it-up-and-expect-PAIN' attitude, stalking toward the face-off.

Neville and Parvati spotted her and squeaked, but everyone else was too focussed on the impending battle. Harry looked ready to kill someone as Draco baited him with the badge. "Want one, Granger? Roisin already hexed the Hufflepuffs who tried to give her one, so I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just watched it, you see, and I don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Everyone knew that Roisin hated that slur, which was why they tried to never use it when she might be within hearing range. She made a sound of very obvious annoyance, just as Harry pulled out his wand. Students looked at Harry, noticed Roisin approaching behind him, and scurried out of the line of fire.

Draco had clearly not learned anything from the last match with Harry, except to make sure that there was no chance of a non-biased professor showing up. "Go on, then, Potter. Moody's not here to look after you this time – do it, if you've got the guts."

A split second later…

"_Furnunculus!"_

"_Densangeo!"_

The two spells collided in mid-air and ricocheted off at an angle, hitting Greg and Hermione. Greg bellowed in pain and brought his hand up to his nose, which was sprouting huge, painful-looking boils. Hermione was whimpering in panic as her teeth, already large, were now growing at an alarming rate, making her look very much like a beaver.

"And what is all this about?" Professor Snape had arrived, and Draco jumped to give his excuse first. "Potter attacked me, sir – "

Harry cut in, his outraged tone doing him no favours. "We attacked each other at the same time!"

He was ignored. " – and he hit Goyle – look – "

Professor Snape examined the unfortunate boy, who looked almost like a warning picture in a book about poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle."

Ron tried to protest, pointing out Hermione, whose teeth were now past her collar. Professor Snape looked at her coldly. "I see no difference."

That was harsh, and could have landed the Potions Master in a very great deal of trouble if someone reported it. Hermione burst into tears and ran down the hall, presumably to the Hospital wing, nearly flattening Roisin on her way.

It was lucky that Harry and Ron started shouting at the same time, and luckier still that the corridor made loud voices echo so much, so it was hard to hear exactly what they were saying, though Roisin could hazard a good guess.

So could Professor Snape. "Let's see. Fifty points from Gryffindor, and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a weeks worth of detentions."

It was an uncharitable thought that Roisin's self preservation would never let her voice aloud, but she sometimes wondered if Professor Snape lurked around for a bit beforehand, so he could make his presence known just in time to catch a non-Slytherin doing something worthy of detention or point-loss.

But now was certainly not the time to dwell on such thoughts. Everyone hurried inside. Roisin thought that the shared outrage would have caused Ron to at least share a desk with Harry, but no. Roisin, resigning herself to a lesson spent running interference, sat next to Draco, who waited until Professor Snape was on the other side of the classroom and looking elsewhere before flashing 'POTTER STINKS' again.

Roisin whacked him, hissing, "For the love of heaven, Draco, will you _grow up_? I already told the Hufflepuffs that those things were juvenile, I didn't expect to have to repeat it to you!"

Draco sulkily busied himself pulling out books as Professor Snape began the lesson. "Antidotes! You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on who to test one."

Roisin hoped that it would be Vince or Neville, as they stood the worst chance of brewing a successful antidote. If they were used to test antidotes on, the worst that would happen would be a night in the Hospital wing as Madam Pomfrey got the last of an antidote overdose out of their system. Testing their antidotes on someone else might very well end in a trip to St. Mungo's. If Neville's track record was anything to go by, he would probably come up with something that not only didn't cure the poison, but made it worse.

The class was interrupted by a knock at the door, which turned out to be Colin Creevy. "Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Professor Snape hated class interruptions. "Potter still has an hour of Potions to complete. He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Finally showing a rare moment of common sense, Colin looked very nervous. "Sir, Mr. Bagman wants him. I think they want to take photos…"

The last sentence was not a wise one, as Professor Snape's glare only intensified. "Very well, very well. Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down later to test your antidote."

Colin looked even more nervous as he squeaked, "Please, sir, he's got to take his things with him. All of the Champions – "

Roisin doubted it was intentional, but that was a good addition, making sure that Professor Snape couldn't snap about Harry getting special treatment, if all of the Champions had to do it. Harry looked hugely relieved, but Professor Snape looked furious. "_Very well!_ Potter, take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Harry left as fast as he could without running, and the rest of the class tried very hard not to draw attention to themselves as they brewed their antidotes. Roisin had the feeling that she was under extra scrutiny, for not participating in the school-wide Harry-hate, and refusing to wear a badge.

She had just finished washing up and packing away her tools when Professor Snape called for all of them to gather at the front of the classroom. "Gather around, students, we are about to test the antidotes. Miss O'Conner, please come up front."

Oh, Hell.

* * *

Roisin woke up in the Hospital wing about five minutes after dinner had ended, and escaped from Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies just in time for Professor Sprout to catch her and send her to detention in the dungeons.

In a very faint stroke of luck for Roisin, some particularly foolish student had tried to give Professor Snape one of the badges, presumably counting on his dislike of Harry, but forgetting the Head of Slytherin's lack of patience for students bothering him over 'foolishness', 'useless frivolity', or anything else not related to lessons. The resulting foul mood lead to a very light detention of cutting shrivelfigs, once he found out that Roisin was being punished for hexing one of the very Hufflepuff badge-givers who had interrupted him while he was brewing.

She was joined by Cedric, who had a much nastier job of disembowelling tree-frogs and flobberworms. Roisin finished sharpening her knife and smiled in greeting. "Hi. What are you in for?"

Cedric grinned back. "A group of girls were too busy asking me to sign their bags to pay attention to instructions, and blew up a potion. Snape sent them to the trophy room, saying that at least there they could focus on people who had actually succeeded, instead of mooning over temporary celebrities. You?"

Roisin smirked at the description of the fan-girls' punishment. That was another of the Champion-related problems; that Cedric actually _looked_ like a champion, with his dark hair, grey eyes and general good looks, while Harry, despite his good character, still looked like a scrawny midget with glasses. "I Hexed a group of Hufflepuffs who were trying to make me buy those stupid badges, and didn't notice Professor Sprout coming." She put down her knife, growing serious. "Tell me you didn't encourage that or know about it beforehand."

Cedric's smile disappeared. "Not until the entire House showed up at breakfast wearing them. I've asked them to stop, but…" He shrugged helplessly.

Roisin nodded, picking her knife up and tilting the shrivelfig away from her as she started to skin it. "Good. I thought you deserved to be Champion in the first place. I'm glad not to be proven wrong."

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A/N: Perhaps not the best place to end it, but I couldn't think of anywhere better. The next chapter might be a while in coming, as I am going to be busy moving house, job-hunting, and attending TAFE. I will try to get some writing done, but no promises on speedy updates.  
As always, constructive criticism is very much appreciated and flames are laughed at. If you ask a question or want a reply, please login or leave an e-mail, so I can get back to you.

Thanks, Nat


	51. Cautions and Consequences

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY ONE**

That the other Champions were not actively out to get Harry was a very large weight off Roisin's mind. Sirius had not yet written back, (Roisin suspected that the full moon and a certain were-wolf had something to do with it, likely resulting in Sirius having not read the letter yet) but the entire school found out why the very next morning at breakfast.

Rita Skeeter had come up with an article that Roisin didn't need to ask Harry to know that it was a load of rubbish, and would only cause trouble.

Harry almost never showed emotion, liked his privacy, and hated being in the spotlight. Roisin doubted that he would ever admit to crying about his parents, especially to a reporter, whether it was true or not, and she knew for a fact that the only love between Harry and Hermione was that of sibling-close friends.

What made it worse was that Rita was supposed to be writing an article about the Triwizard Champions, not yet another re-telling of Harry's life and exploits, with a single sentence about Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum squashed in at the end, and Cedric not mentioned at all.

The Hufflepuffs were seething again, and probably would have started throwing spells, had they not been in the middle of the Great Hall, and under Professor Sprout's keen eye. Roisin wasn't sure what the Hufflepuffs had faced as detention for fighting after Roisin had incinerated a box of 'POTTER STINKS' badges, but it was probably worse than a few hours skinning shrivelfigs.

Everyone's attention was drawn away from the _Daily Prophet_ by the sound of the Hall doors slamming open, and the appearance of a clearly angry Sirius Black.

Pettigrew's testimony and capture, while instrumental in freeing Sirius, was not widely known, as the Ministry knew that it would only make them look bad. As such, more than a few people still viewed Sirius as a mass-murderer who somehow got off, an opinion supported by the fact that he was the scion and Head of the Black family, a line traditionally as dark as their name.

And right now, he looked like it.

There was a mass-exit from the Hall as people realized that wearing a 'POTTER STINKS' badge might not be the best idea around an angry ex-convict. Even those without badges decided that the impending display of fireworks was probably not worth sticking around for, as far as their continued good health was concerned.

Roisin knew that Sirius wouldn't hurt her, if only because it might upset Harry, but seeing the look on his face as he approached, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a terrified squeak and making a dash for the door, glancing back at the Head Table as she did so. Ludo Bagman had paled significantly, while Mr. Crouch was luckily absent. Dumbledore was wearing a pained expression, as though facing a necessary but very unpleasant task.

Roisin wished that she knew an eavesdropping charm, but decided to settle for asking Harry later.

* * *

Professor McGonagall had apparently become sick of people harassing her favorite student over Rita's article, because most of Roisin's House Year-mates were spending the next Hogsmeade weekend in detention for making chipmunk noises around Hermione, after Pansy had made the comparison in defiance of Rita's description of Hermione being 'stunningly pretty'.

The exceptions were Desdemona, who hadn't been present at the time, Theo, who had been ignoring the spectacle in favor of talking with Terry Boot, and Roisin, who had told them to stop acting like idiots.

Theo had quietly asked Roisin's help in getting some time alone with Desdemona, so Roisin found herself keeping Hermione company, as Harry had refused to come to Hogsmeade without his Invisibility Cloak, as the taunts had only escalated, and the 'POTTER STINKS' badges were still running rampant.

"I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

The comment was addressed to Harry, but Roisin nodded in a conversational manner, sparing Hermione the embarrassment of appearing to be talking to herself. "Look on the bright side: nobody is quoting That Article, or making horrible remarks. Besides, they'll just think that you're talking to me, and that I'm only hanging out with you because my other friends are either in detention or on a Not-A-Date."

Hermione gave Roisin an arch look. "Thanks for sticking up for me, there. Honestly, Harry, please just take your cloak off for a bit. No-one is going to bother you here."

Roisin and Harry caught sight of just such a bother at the same time. "Care to bet on that?"

"Oh, yeah? Look behind you."

Rita Skeeter and her photographer had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks. They walked past Hermione without looking at her, but Harry had to quickly back away to avoid being hit with Rita's handbag, squashing Roisin against the wall of Honeydukes in the process.

Roisin dusted herself off as Harry kept his voice to a whisper. "She's staying in the village. I bet she's coming to watch the First Task."

If nothing else, Rita's appearance stopped Hermione's insistence that he take off the Invisibility Cloak, at least for a while. "She's gone. Why don't we go have a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks? It's a bit cold out here."

Harry remained stubbornly silent, and Roisin took a guess. "No, we won't try to make you talk to Ron, even if Hermione does think that you're both being idiots."

They walked into the pub, keeping Harry between them to minimalize chances of him being tripped over or bumped into. Harry edged his way to a small table in the back as Roisin and Hermione went to get drinks and something to eat. "You mean you don't think that they're being idiots?"

Roisin shook her head. "Shepard's Pie and a Butterbeer, please. Not at all. I think Ron is being an idiot by allowing jealousy to ruin at least one friendship, and I think that Harry would only be wasting his time and breath trying to talk to the prat before Ron is willing to listen. Thanks, Madam Rosmerta."

They made their way back to the table and sat down. "What are we supposed to say if people ask why we have an extra Butterbeer at the table?"

Roisin shrugged. "That it's none of their business? We were settled in and didn't want to fight our way through the crowd until we had to, so we stocked up in advance. Make something up."

Hermione raised a disapproving eyebrow. "Good thing I brought something to keep myself busy then, if we're going to pull that deception off. I hope you did the same."

Roisin pulled out a paperback in response as Hermione produced her S.P.E.W. notes and records. Harry and Ron's names were at the top of a very short list, and Roisin couldn't resist commenting. "Wow. The sheer amount of members should send a message all on its own."

Harry quickly intervened before Hermione could do more than send Roisin a dark look. "Hermione, when are you going to give this up?"

Hermione only re-directed her glare. "When House-Elves have decent wages and working conditions, and not before!"

Roisin daintily swallowed a bite of her pie. "Won't work. Proper working conditions, maybe, plenty of people will get behind that, but the wages are a lost cause. The House-Elves wouldn't accept them even if you did convince the Ministry. If you came up with something to offer them instead of wages…"

She trailed off, seeing Hermione's mulish expression and knowing that there would be no getting through to her. Roisin shrugged and picked up her book, leaving Harry to try and talk sense into the other girl.

She looked up again when there was a small commotion near the entrance of the pub. Spotting the cause, she relaxed again. Hagrid's sheer size caused a small fuss no matter where he went, so attempting to maneuver through a crowded pub would naturally result in a stir. He had been sitting with Professor Moody, hunched down in order to talk, which explained why they had missed spotting him.

Now the two professors were getting up to leave, avoiding Madam Rosmerta, who was a much braver woman than Roisin was, with the glare she was sending at Moody. Well, at least the Innkeeper had a good reason: Moody was refusing to drink from anything but his hip-flask, and it had to be a stab at Madam Rosmerta's professional pride. No restaurant likes its customers bringing food or drink in from somewhere else, unless the drink is wine at a B.Y.O. licensed venue.

Suddenly, Moody's eye fixed on their table, and Roisin instinctively ducked down. But Moody only tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (Hagrid's shoulder was too high for him to reach), muttered something, and then the pair of them made their way over to the table. "All right, Hermione? Roisin?"

"Hello," said Hermione, smiling back.

Roisin kept a wary eye on Moody, who was limping around the table. "We're fine, thanks Hagrid. And yourself?"

Moody looked like he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice Cloak, Potter."

Roisin nearly fell off her chair in shock, though it might also have been because the large chunk missing from Moody's nose was a lot more obvious at close range.

She was spared by yet another commotion, this one caused by Desdemona trying to get to her as fast as possible, not really caring who she knocked over in the process. Roisin resigned herself to the inevitable and stood, picking up her bag. "I'd better go take care of this. I'll see you both later."

Making her way across the pub with a lot more care than Desdemona had, Roisin grabbed her friend and left. Theo was waiting for them outside. "Hi, Roisin. Have you been having fun?"

Roisin smiled. "Not as much as you two, I hope. Do you mind if I steal Desdemona for a bit?"

Desdemona looked like she was bursting to talk to Roisin alone, but there was no way for Theo to leave without someone seeming rude. He gratefully took the opening. "By all means. I had a lovely time today, so I can't really apologize for leaving you alone earlier. You must be waiting for a chance to talk."

Roisin smiled again and shooed him away. She turned her attention back to Desdemona, who was actually bouncing by now. "So, how was your date?"

Since even the deliberate jibe failed to dampen the other girl's excitement, Roisin would assume that it went well. "Today was not a date!" A short pause that was probably intended to build suspense. "…next Hogsmeade Weekend is, though, so I'll tell you then."

Roisin couldn't stop herself from letting out a high-pitched, girlish shriek. "Really? That's brilliant! Tell, tell, tell!"

Desdemona laughed, the words pouring out of her mouth even faster than usual as she recounted the visit to _Bella Notte_ for lunch, followed by Honeydukes and the Joke Shop in minute detail.

* * *

The two girls had barely made it inside the castle when they nearly tripped over a First-Year. Looking down (this 'ickle firstie' really _was_ ickle), Roisin recognized Colin Creevey's younger brother. Dennis, if she recalled correctly. "I know Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, but a single First-Year against two Fourth-Years just isn't smart."

The boy grinned cheerfully, which would have had him hexed by one of Roisin's less tolerant Housemates. "Yeah, but you're a nice Slytherin, and she's your friend, so I'm safe."

Oh, Gods, it was one of _that_ sort of firstie. "Dennis, was it? First off, I am smart, and have the common sense to avoid pointless conflict, but that does not make me 'nice'. However, since you probably won't go away until I hear you out, what do you want?"

Dennis looked even happier, if that was possible, and Roisin wondered if that family had a history of dropping babies on their heads at birth. "Well, I heard that you don't like the 'POTTER STINKS' badges and that you got into a fight with the Hufflepuffs handing them out. My brother and I were hoping that we could get our hands on some so we could modify them. The other Gryffindors said that you were sneaky, so we hoped that you could help us."

Roisin wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted. She elbowed Desdemona to make her stop giggling. "You're actually serious, aren't you? Fine, follow and observe."

Dennis trotted along after the girls as Roisin led the way to the kitchens, and, more importantly, the House-Elves. "Isn't the usual phrase, 'watch and learn'?"

Roisin sighed. That was one of the common sense subtleties. "If you choose to learn from the experience, then that's your issue. _I,_ on the other hand, have no intention of getting in trouble for encouraging you to break rules, and if I wanted to teach you, I would be morally obliged to include how not to get caught, which I frankly don't have time for."

They had arrived at the still-life fruit bowl, and Roisin reached out to tickle the pear. She motioned the others inside, and looked around for a likely helper. Ah, there. Most of the elves were busy with dinner, but there was one just sitting in the corner, looking so depressed that it would probably jump at the opportunity to assist her in anything she wanted.

Trying not to startle the elf, Roisin walked over. "Elf, sorry I don't know your name, I need your help with something very important."

The House-Elf's huge green eyes were almost worshipful as she looked up. "I's being Winky. Would Misses and Sir really be asking a disgraced elf for help?"

Roisin hadn't really noticed the set of neat little clothes, but that certainly explained the depression. "You look capable to me, and that's all I'm looking for. Somewhere in the Hufflepuff living area, there is a box of badges that alternate between saying 'Support Cedric Diggory' and 'Potter stinks'. I was hoping that you could find it and bring it here for me."

Winky nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, Miss! Winky is knowing the badges! Dobby is being very unhappy about them."

Roisin wasn't sure who 'Dobby' was, aside from probably being another House-Elf, but decided that it didn't matter as Winky popped away. Meanwhile, a few of the other House-Elves had been plying Dennis and Desdemona with drinks and sweets. Nicking a lemon tart that Dennis had been reaching for, Roisin sat down to wait.

She didn't even make it half-way through the tart before Winky reappeared, almost staggering under the weight of three large boxes. "Here they is, Miss! Winky is finding all of the badges in the Hufflepuff area. Did Winky do well?"

Roisin had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. This was _really_ going to upset the Hufflepuffs. The incident with Mimsy last Yule should have taught her that House-Elves tended to go above and beyond the call of duty if they were worried about disgrace. "You did very well, Winky. Past my expectations, even. I'll remember that in the future."

Winky lit up brighter than a Christmas Tree and bowed them all the way to the door. Outside the painting, Roisin transfigured a scrap of paper into a small box, filled it with badges, and handed it to Dennis. She incinerated the rest, happily imagining the Chaos when the Hufflepuffs found them missing. "_Pas devant les Domestiques._ The House-Elves know almost everything that goes on in this castle, and while there are certain things that they can't or won't do, they are incredibly helpful, especially when it comes to hot drinks delivered to the Common Room in winter."

Dennis was absorbing all of this like a sponge. "Weird little things. So, they're like magical servants, employed by the school?"

Best to clear that issue up before he asked Hermione and got treated to a S.P.E.W. lecture. "Yes and no. Think of them more as Household Spirits, like a_ Hob _or a _Domestic Kobold_, only without the risk of hostility if you offend them. Offering wages would only be taken as an insult."

The boy nodded. "So why do they wear tea-towels and pillow-cases? How did that elf mean that she was disgraced?"

Roisin sighed and motioned for Desdemona to go ahead. This was probably going to take a while, and she didn't want to be standing in a hallway the entire time. "I'll see you back in the Common Room, Des. I'll tell you, Dennis, but why don't we sit down somewhere? You'll probably have questions."

* * *

To his credit, Dennis did have the sense to make her turn around and cover her ears while he gave the password to the Gryffindor Common Room, and in short order, Roisin found herself surrounded by Muggle-Borns and First-Years, when Colin asked his brother what a Slytherin was doing there.

Reassuring herself that either Blaise or Desdemona would send a rescue party if she wasn't back by dinner, Roisin tried to think of where to start. Thankfully, Dennis rescued her. "So, you said that House-Elves were more like invisible magical servants than employed Union Workers, right?"

Roisin nodded. "Yes. Serving a family, or a school, in this case, is a large part of who and what they are, their reason for being. That's why they wear the Hogwarts crest on their tea towels. It's also why they would be insulted if you tried to pay them."

Natalie MacDonald, another First-Year, raised her hand, looking almost as though she was in class, an illusion only supported by the notebook and quill she held. "The bit about wages missed me, I'm afraid."

Roisin bit her lip. "Let me think of how to explain. OK, the basic idea of wages is to get paid based on the amount of responsibility or on how well you do, right? To the House-Elves, offering payment is like saying that you don't trust them to get the job done without bribery. It's an insult to their skill, and the pride they take in their work. Think of it as telling a professional artist that you don't expect him to do better than the scribbling of a two-year-old unless he was being paid for it."

A Second-Year that Roisin thought was called Laura winced. "Blacklisted, much? What about them wearing tea-towels and pillow-cases? Dennis said that one of them was wearing proper clothes, so why don't all of them do that?"

Roisin snorted, immediately reprimanding herself for such a un-lady-like sound. "Not unless you want a school-wide Strike and detention helping Filch clean until you graduate. Clothing made by someone else is the mark of a Disgraced Elf. It means that they have failed badly enough to warrant dismissal. Most House-Elves would choose death over such a fate."

Colin's eyes were wide. "Isn't that a bit extreme?"

Roisin shook her head. Admittedly, that had been her thought before the whole thing had been explained to her, but still. "No. Dismissal means that the House-Elf is no longer part of the family, and is not likely to find another, because only a large company in need of help will accept a disgraced elf, and even that is a far more impersonal relationship."

Dennis looked confused. "How do you mean, 'impersonal relationship'?"

That was even harder to clearly describe without seeing or experiencing it directly. "Imagine someone in your family saying that you are such a failure that they no longer want you as part of it. A business offers to take you in, give you food and shelter if you promise to work for them. Winky was accepted by Hogwarts, and the Houses can be a lot like family, but students come and go, and leave after seven years. Family is constant. Winky works for Hogwarts, but she will always remember loving and caring for the family she once served."

A Fifth-Year whose name Roisin didn't know spoke next. "How do you know all of this?"

This called for a bit of careful editing, just in case the conversation got back to her Housemates. "I was raised in the Muggle world, because my grand-dad was a Muggle-Born, and my Nana left her ancestral home to live with him. I met that part of the family after I started Hogwarts, and the Keep is big enough to need several House-Elves. I had the same questions you did, and Nana had one of the House-Elves explain things to me before I could accidentally free or upset one of them."

Second-Year Nigel something-or-other frowned. "Hermione said that the treatment of House-Elves is barbaric, and that they don't know what is good for them, so we have to act in their best interest for them."

Roisin scowled. She respected Hermione's academic intelligence, but there were times that the girl was denser than Ron, and when her determination did her no favors. "That sounds almost exactly like some of the Christian Missionaries. Usually right before they come up with things like destroying sacred places or symbols in order to 'take away their Pagan Influence', or Reservations and Mission Homes. If any of you paid attention in Foreign History, you should know about the Stolen Generation or the camps in World War II in order to 'protect' the rest of the world from the Jews."

She sighed. Fair was fair; Hermione did have good intentions, and deserved the benefit of the doubt. "Hermione saw an instance that she thought was wrong, maybe heard about another, and formed an opinion without looking for ALL of the facts. She means well, but she is doing no one any favors."

Glancing at the clock above the fireplace, Roisin stood up. "Either way, it's nearly dinnertime, and I'd better go before my friends think I've been kidnapped, and charge to the rescue."

Natalie giggled as she followed Roisin to the portrait hole. "I didn't know that Slytherins did 'Knights in Shining Armor'. The older Gryffindors certainly don't think so."

The portrait opened to reveal Blaise, Desdemona and Theo, who had clearly been trying to get into the Common Room. Desdemona hastily put her wand away as Roisin kissed Blaise on the cheek in greeting. "We prefer the 'Dashing Rogue' or 'Romantic Villain', actually, but the end result is the same."

Blaise grinned. "'One kiss, my bonny sweetheart*'. Did you need rescuing, or can I say that I was just coming to escort you to dinner, since I couldn't take you out to Hogsmeade?"

Roisin laughed. She had been reading Alfred Noyes, and Blaise had picked up a habit of finding her favorite songs and poems to quote on Valentine's Day, or the rare occasion that he felt the need to apologize for something. Seeing Pansy's reaction to having to miss a date with Draco thanks to detention must have put him on alert. "I'm fine. Just, corrupting the young and ruining carefully laid schemes. That's what certain Gryffindors will claim, at least."

That caused laughter all around, and Natalie vanished back inside the Common Room as the Slytherins headed down to the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry had moved on from his state of numb shock after his name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire, but now it seemed that he was straight back there, along with a not-so-healthy dose of 'Oh-God-I'm-Going-To-Die' added in for good measure. Slytherin and Gryffindor might not get along very well, but Roisin had no intention of letting this continue.

Casting a _glassius_ charm on the floor a few feet in front of Draco and several other students who were wearing those stupid badges, then a tripping jinx on a flagstone just before that (logical reasoning hadn't worked, and getting caught firing spells at the idiots only resulted in detention, so Roisin had moved on to discrete but widespread 'accidents'. If caught, she could simply claim that she was trying to convey the message that the badges were a stupid idea), Roisin smirked at the results and used the ensuring chaos to grab Harry and drag him into the waiting room just off of the Great Hall.

Dodging Harry's instinctive disarming spell – it couldn't be a good thing that he was instinctively throwing protective spells when startled – Roisin fixed him with her best 'Spill It' look. "You look even worse than when your name first came out of the Goblet. What happened now?"

In typical 'Teenage Boy' mode, Harry opened his mouth to deny that anything was wrong, then mentally admitted that he was pretty much screwed either way (Roisin had become very good at deciphering this thought process, thanks to her year-mates) and started talking. "I found out what the First Task is, thanks to Hagrid. We have to get an egg away from a nesting dragon."

Roisin briefly hoped that she had misheard, and then admitted that she hadn't. It took a lot to make Roisin lose her composure, and usually nothing short of a Jelly-Legs jinx to make her actually collapse, but this revelation was very nearly enough to make her faint. "Dra –", her voice was perilously close to an undignified squeak, and she paused to clear her throat. "They expect a bunch of school students to face down dragons? To get an egg away from a nesting mother? I read up on previous Tournaments, and most of those tasks weren't half as dangerous as this."

She paused for breath, and took a second look at Harry's face, which strongly implied that her rant was only making things worse. Roisin had to concede that it wasn't really calming her down either, and pulled herself together. "Right, no use whimpering about it. You know that you're going to need far more than just Fourth-Year spells to get through this."

Harry's reply held a small note of terror, and a larger amount of sarcasm. "That's very helpful, Roisin. Did you have any other shining pearls of wisdom that I already know?"

Roisin frowned at him. Alright, so he had to face a dragon, even so, as Fionna would say, impending death and disaster was no excuse for lack of manners or the formation of bad habits. "Don't take that tone with me! I know that you're stressed, but you need all the help you can get, and snapping at people is very counter-productive."

Harry blew out an expressive breath, running both hands through his perpetually messy hair. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm completely lost on what to do, and I don't even know where to start to get the egg."

Figuring out what you didn't know was a starting point, at least. "Failing the First Task won't be the end of the world, so let's start with spells to keep you alive. Flame-Freezing Charms are a must, even if they are less effective in the face of magical fire. The Summoning Charm, too, in case you need more than a wand, because the egg will probably be warded against something like that. You'll need to figure out your main strengths, and work off those. From there, we'll…"

Roisin trailed off as she noticed Harry grinning, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Not wanting to offend potential assistance, her cousin quickly explained. "That's probably the most helpful thing anyone has said so far, even if you sound like Hermione. You said 'we', does that mean that you'll be helping?"

Roisin smiled gently, ignoring the comparison. "Of course I will be helping. Being in different Houses doesn't make us any less related, or make you any less my favorite, reckless cousin, and I have no intention of letting you get yourself killed. Besides, I'll have a reason for being elsewhere if the Hufflepuffs ever find out who got rid of most of those idiotic badges."

That drew an actual laugh from Harry. "That was you? You do realize that it's driving everyone totally nutters to figure out who is responsible. Professor McGonagall has questioned the twins four times, already. The teachers are running around trying to find out who was behind it, and even the Gryffindors know that the Creevey brothers only got their hand on a dozen or so."

Roisin smirked, looking and feeling very pleased with herself, but became serious again when she reminded herself of the point. She reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. We'll get through this."

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A/N: And another chapter is up! In very little time, which is what happens when your class is going over thinks you learned when you were eight! TypeQuick lessons make you go slower when you have to start at lesson 1 (only the 'a,s,d,f' keys) for half an hour before every lesson for a full week!  
I don't know how the Creevey Brothers got their hands on the 'POTTER STINKS' badges, since even the Hufflepuffs would know what fanboys they were, so this is my take on it.  
People might think I was going on a bit much about House-Elves, but they were never really explained beyond the fact that they liked houseword, didn't like wages, and didn't like Hermione. I wanted reasons why, so this is my explanation. A **Hob** is an English Household spirit very much like a Harry Potter House-Elf, and probably JKR's basis for them. A **Kobold** is the German counterpart. FF.N won't let me post links, but you can google them easily.

_As always, Constructive criticism is welcomed, and flames are ignored. If you have a question or want a reply, login so that I can answer without searching all of ff.n to find your profile._

_* '**The Highwayman**', by Alfred Noyes. Perfect example of a 'Romantic Villain'. Read it._

_Thanks, Nat._


	52. The First Task

_Disclaimer: Not mine, probably never will be._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Roisin was running a list of spells through her head as she walked to Charms, and didn't notice Cedric approaching until she ran into him. Luckily, he managed to catch her before she fell flat. "You know, I just heard something really strange from your cousin."

That could encompass a lot of things, but since the only cousin who really had reason to be talking to Cedric right now was Harry… "If it's from Seamus or Mary, I probably don't want to know. If it was Harry telling you that the Tournament Organizers are clearly insane for wanting you to go against a nesting dragon, then we need to have a talk about not helping the competition."

Cedric muttered something unkind, then caught himself and shot Roisin an apologetic look. She waved it off. She was running late, and didn't want to annoy Flitwick by being even later because she was listening to apologies about swearing in front of a lady. "I've heard worse, I assure you. Good luck."

Professor Flitwick looked annoyed, but pretended not to notice as Roisin slipped into the classroom, only a minute or so late. She slid into the chair next to Blaise, who raised an eyebrow, wordlessly inquiring. Roisin half-lifted shoulders in response, indicating a non-vital hold-up.

She paused a few moments after the lesson to apologize to Professor Flitwick, but caught up to her Year-Mates by the time they reached the Great Hall, only to run straight into Harry. With-holding a sigh, running into people while distracted was not a good habit, she raised an eyebrow. "You look a bit more cheerful. Did you work out what you're going to do in the First Task?"

Harry nodded, though he still looked a bit strained. "OK, there is no way I'm going to learn enough spells, or even a complicated new one, in time for the First Task, so I'll need to do something with a simple spell that I already know."

Roisin eyed her cousin warily. "You sound like you've already made up your mind about what you're going to do. I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Probably not. I need to play to my strengths, and I'm best at flying. I'm going to use a Summoning Charm to summon my Firebolt into the arena, and get around the Dragon that way. I'll be harder to catch, and I'm good at grabbing small things while flying dangerously."

For a moment, Roisin's brain shut down. If it had been anyone else, and if she hadn't seen her cousin flying enough times to know that he probably could pull it off, she would be dragging him to St Mungo's mental ward. He planned on _flying_ around a dragon? She ferverently hoped that it was chained down. "In that case, you'd better have your broom somewhere close by, because you won't have much time before the dragon notices you."

Harry's face, which had brightened as Roisin didn't shriek in protest, fell again. "I also need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm by tomorrow afternoon."

Roisin went very still. "Run that last bit by me again." Harry winced and opened his mouth to do so. Roisin cut him off, "Actually, don't bother, I doubt that it'll sound any better the second time. Give me a second to make something up."

She darted over to where Blaise was waiting with Desdemona, just outside the doors. "I'm helping Harry with preparing for the Tournament. Could you make our excuses?"

Blaise nodded briefly, kissing her cheek. "I'll tell Vector that something disagreed with you. Good luck. If you're not done by dinner, I'll send a House Elf to find you with sandwiches or something."

Desdemona agreed. "Trelawney's been making stuff up for so long, Potter's sudden absence might shock her enough to get the rest of us out of class. I'm sure I can get someone to second a dramatically tragic account of why he isn't there."

Roisin laughed, kissed Blaise again, and ran back to where Hermione and Harry waited.

* * *

Practising the Summoning Charm was rather interesting. As objects didn't need two people to hold them, and Hermione had that covered, Roisin was reduced to watching Harry try to summon things, and doing little things intended toward breaking his concentration, as a backward attempt to help him learn to focus through distractions. When Hermione snapped at her, Roisin simply responded with an icy look. "Harry is going up against a mother dragon protecting her nest. You can't seriously expect that she'll just sit there once he starts firing spells."

Harry had been taking a quick breather, and the next try had the dictionary flying six feet before it fell to the ground. Roisin applauded. "You nearly made it that time!"

Hermione glared. "He's got a very strong chance of being roasted alive by a dragon tomorrow, and you're amusing yourself throwing hexes at him! While he's trying to master the one spell that is keeping him alive! How is that helpful?"

Roisin tried not to glare back. "As I mentioned, the dragon isn't going to be a statue, so Harry needs to be able to concentrate through distraction. A few hexes will probably be a pleasant memory when he's in the arena tomorrow."

Hermione shot her a last glare for good measure, but gave it up when the bell rang, signalling the start of afternoon classes. "Come on, Roisin."

Roisin blinked in confusion. "Come where? We need to keep practising if we want Harry to live to see next week, remember?"

Hermione looked incredulous. "We have to go to Arithmancy! What do you think will happen if we miss it?"

Roisin shrugged. "I'm ahead, since Professor Vector isn't going ahead until everyone else gets an accurate number-based prediction, and the only thing I screwed up on was not predicting a fourth Champion. Besides, I asked Blaise to make an excuse and lend me his notes. Desdemona will come up with something to tell Trelawney."

Hermione huffed indignantly. "Well, you can skip out, if you want to endanger your grades, but I have no intention of skiving off my classes."

Roisin stared at her. "You need to sort out your priorities. Fine, we'll meet you back here after class."

The two cousins continued practising for the next few hours, a silencing charm in place to avoid the notice of any wandering teachers. Harry's casting speed was improving, but the objects kept losing heart half way across the room.

True to his word, Blaise did send a House Elf with food and drinks, for which Roisin and Harry were very thankful, as constant spell casting tended to work up an appetite. A break was definitely in order, as Harry didn't even look up as Winky appeared. She was less thankful that Hermione entered just as the House-Elf was bowing, but outrage stalled her voice for the precious few second it took for Winky to pop back to the kitchens.

Hermione was clearly seconds away from a tirade of epic proportions, but Harry's request that they skip dinner to keep practising redirected her attention to forcing Harry to eat something first.

Roisin had been unable to resist a snarky comment about how House-Elves must love their work, if they didn't demand payment for food this good, but Hermione's response was cut off by Harry finally choking down his sandwich and demanding to return to practice.

* * *

It had been a rather pleasant and restful night, once Roisin finally made it to her bed. Roisin had made it to breakfast before all of the croissants (an attempt to make the Beauxbatons students feel at home) were gone, and most of the students had finally connected the dots between wearing the 'Potter Stinks' badges and the regular hexing, and decided that it wasn't worth it. Better still, all potential blame was directed toward the Gryffindors.

Despite all of this, Roisin found it impossible to just sit and relax. The First Task would be performed in just a couple of hours, and despite Harry being as prepared as they could possibly make him, she still wondered if it would be enough. Harry had made great progress, but still hadn't properly Summoned anything by the time Peeves had shown up around Midnight and started throwing chairs around, forcing the three students back to their separate Common Rooms.

Draco opened his mouth to make a loud remark speculating on Harry's chances, as he had been since the Champions were chosen, but caught sight of Roisin's face, and indulged in a rare bout of sensitivity and/or self-preservation by keeping quiet.

On the semi-bright side, all of the Champions looked at least as nervous as she was, although they had a bit more right to it, as they would be actually facing the dragons, while she would only be worrying herself sick watching them do so. If Roisin felt this nervous as a spectator, she could only imagine how the Champions themselves must be feeling.

Finishing off the little she had been able to serve herself for breakfast, Roisin followed several other students to the stadium that had been set up for the Task. Upon arrival, she immediately sought out Luna, who was always good at distracting people, if only by saying something so random that by the time you finished working out what she meant, you had forgotten what you were worrying about in the first place.

Eventually, the crowd settled down, and Ludo Bagman stood up, acting as both commentator and judge. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament!" He paused for a loud cheer. "In just a few moments, the champions will face a task to test all of their skill, wits and daring. They must collect the Golden Egg! Bring forth the Challenge!"

There was another resounding cheer, but this one abruptly dimmed in shock and no small amount of fear as a Swedish Short-Snout, a Common Welsh Green, a Chinese Fireball and a Hungarian Horntail reared into view. Ludo Bagman may have missed this, as he continued. "The First Task is for the Champions to collect the golden egg!"

The crowd now fell completely silent as the combined roaring of the dragons caused all animal life within earshot to flee in several directions. Nobody blamed them. Anyone who had even a basic knowledge of animals knew that they became all the more dangerous when protecting nests or young, and dragons were dangerous enough in the first place.

Looking around, Roisin noticed that even those who had denounced Harry as a Lying Glory-hound and the Spawn of Satan were starting to re-consider their opinion. Lovely that it only took Impending Crispy-Roasted Death by dragon-fire for people to yank their heads out of their posteriors.

A crowd that is murmuring worriedly is a crowd that needs to be distracted. Bagman was a seasoned sportsman and commentator, and quickly forged ahead. "Now, the first Champion, from Hogwarts School, Cedric Diggory!"

Cedric emerged from the Champion's Tent. Through a pair of Omnioculars, Roisin thought that he looked more than a little pale, but at least composed. The Swedish Short-Snout roared angrily, and several students turned even paler that Cedric first had. Cedric dodged the burst of fire, seeking cover, and then raised his wand, transfiguring several nearby rocks into dogs.

This was a fairly clever move. The most natural enemy of the dragon was the Cerberus, as dragons in most cultures represented protection and strength, life or immortality, while the Cerberus was symbolic of Death and the Underworld. Therefore, while normal beasts of the canine family didn't send them into a killing rage, they would certainly provide a distraction. The dragon turned away from Cedric, but didn't actually leave her nest. Roisin thought that she saw him pull a face as he used the opportunity to at least get closer to the nest.

The dogs were now so much blood and tiny pieces of chewed flesh, and Cedric was half-way to the nest, where a tiny glint of gold could be spotted amongst the large dragon-eggs. He was also running out of both cover and ammunition. Ducking to the last bit of shelter before several meters of bare rock around the nest, he turned one of the last remaining boulders into a Labrador, adding the illusion of two extra heads, and banished the other boulder at the dragon's head.

Thoroughly infuriated, the dragon charged the dog, which obligingly bolted in the other direction, leaving the nest unguarded. Cedric ran for the egg, canceling the transfiguration just in time for the dragon to swallow a solid rock instead of a chewy Cerberus. As a diversion, that definitely worked, as the dragon was too busy trying to cough up the rock to notice the little fleshling running for her nest.

Cedric grabbed the egg and was on his way back when the Short-Snout noticed him again. To the dragon's credit, she snaked her head over to check on her nest, confirming that all of the actual eggs were safe, before deciding that the interloper needed to be taught an object lesson anyway. In a swift move that would make any professional fighter weep with envy, she sent Cedric flying with a blow from her tail, and followed up with a jet of fire.

More than one person screamed, but Cedric's Quidditch reflexes served him well, and he managed to twist in mid-air so that only part of his face was badly scorched in passing, rather than his entire body being burned to a crisp. On the bright side, it meant a short-cut to the exit, bouncing off the shield charm and hitting the ground with what would probably be no more than severe but easily-fixed bruising.

The stands, especially those in Hufflepuff yellow, erupted in cheers, and Roisin tried to get her heart-rate back to normal, working her arm out of Mary's death-grip.

The judges each awarded scores out of ten, a total score of thirty-eight out of fifty, to even more cheering, and then it was time for the next Champion to face the Common Welsh Green. "And now, from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, let's hear it for Fleur Delacour!"

Roisin supposed that it must make a novel change for Fleur, as the cheering was for what was actually happening, rather than because of her Veela heritage. In this task, Fleur would have the advantage. Veela were creatures of Air and Fire, as were dragons, so the Common Welsh Green would be slightly less enthusiastic to roast her alive unless Fleur made a mistake and provoked it.

From the look of things, Fleur was using her Charm to lull the dragon into seeing her as 'not a threat'. Like most expectant reptilian mothers, the extra vigilance of guarding a nest, not to mention being flown all over the place on short notice, was tiring for even a dragon, and the Veela Allure was enough to relax it into a light doze. Roisin was very glad that there was a barrier in place between audience and arena, because several of the young male population looked ready to leap to Fleur's defense, despite the probability of being turned into Dragon Fodder, and the fact that she currently didn't need it.

Fleur had made her way slowly to the nest, and was now, inch by careful inch, extracting the golden egg from its fellows. She finally succeeded, and was on her way back when the dragon snored, and a small jet of fire shot out of it's nostrils, setting fire to the back hem of her skirt. Fleur hurried to put it out with a jet of water from her wand, but stumbled as she did so.

The combination of spell and shifting rock pulled the dragon out of its trance, and, like the Short-Snout, the Welsh Green's first instinct was to check its nest, while Fleur backed hastily away.

The golden egg was not an actual dragon egg, but it had been under the Welsh Green's care, and the loss of it, not to mention Fleur's sudden possession of the egg, drove the dragon into a defensive fury. The Welsh Green lifted her head in a roar and a spectacular burst of flame to warn away any other potential thieves, and then turned its attention back to Fleur.

The Female Champion, meanwhile, had cut her losses and was nearly back to the exit by now, abandoning all poise and literally diving through the doorway as the dragon let out a sheet of fire that burned hot enough to be felt even through the barrier, and the dragon handlers rushed in to calm the dragon down.

Luna applied a cooling charm to her general area, and then offered Roisin a strangely shaped hand-held fan. The handle was a crooked stick, attached to a round-ish sheet of folded paper, painted with the head of an animal that Roisin had never seen before. Taking a stab in the dark, Roisin accepted the fan. "A crumple-horned snorkack?" Luna nodded, and Roisin smiled. "Cool."

Fleur also received an excellent score; thirty-nine out of fifty, and then it was time for the next Dragon vs. Champion match. "And now, representing the Magical Institute of Durmstrang, please give a warm hand to Viktor Krum!"

Krum had an edge over his competitors in that he had more experience with operating calmly under pressure while ignoring a screaming crowd. He was focused totally on the Chinese Fireball, and on the tiny egg that it guarded. In this part, Viktor would have more trouble than the other Champions. While the other dragons produced eggs that contrasted with the sparkling object, Viktor's egg was not much bigger than the golden flecks on the Chinese Fireball's crimson eggs, and nearly invisible.

Like Cedric and Fleur, Viktor started by using to broken ground to move closer before casting any spells. When he did start casting, however, he used none of the subtlety of diversionary tactics that the previous two Champions had used. Instead, he aimed right for the dragon, and hit it with Roisin thought was the Conjunctivas Hex, striking it right between the eyes.

The Chinese Fireball's screaming roar of agony was likely to feature in Roisin's nightmares for a very long time. It also caused everyone to instinctively dive for cover, from spectators behind the barrier, to the dragon handlers (not a good sign), to Krum himself, who barely made it out of the way before the dragon's foreleg crashed down exactly where he had been standing only seconds before.

The Fireball was trampling around wildly, making Viktor's probable plan of running straight for the nest go from 'plausible' to 'suicide'. There seemed not to be a secondary plan, however, so Krum tried to skirt the edges of the Arena, trying to get around the dragon from behind. Unfortunately, the edges were no safer than anywhere else in the Arena, as the dragon had been driven wild by the pain from Krum's curse, and was no longer paying any attention to where she stepped.

Roisin winced in both sympathy and trepidation when the Fireball accidentally trampled its own nest, pitying both dragon and handler when the Fireball realized what it had done to its unborn hatchlings.

It was a blessing for Krum, however, as the Golden Egg was a lot more durable than the Dragon Eggs, and, rather than being squashed, was simply sent flying, thankfully in Krum's direction. Three seconds and the reflexes of a seeker after that, Krum was following Fleur's example in making a mad dash for the exit, neatly avoiding the Handlers who were rushing in to calm the Fireball down.

Points were removed for the trampled eggs, mostly from Crouch (most likely envisioning the foreign relations nightmare at the loss of the eggs) and Madam Maxime (who seemed to share not only Hagrid's size, but also his fondness for large and dangerous animals). Bagman was impressed by the dramatic show, and Karkaroff biased toward his own School, leaving Krum in first place, with forty points out of fifty.

And then it was Harry's turn.

Harry looked very green as he entered the arena and raised his wand "_Accio_ Firebolt!"

For several very long seconds, nothing happened, but then the Firebolt came hurtling through the air, soared into the enclosure, and stopped in mid-air next to Harry.

Bagman had started up his commentary again, and Roisin resisted the urge to hex him so that she could concentrate. They probably had some kind of shield to discourage disgruntled spectators already, anyway. "Excellent use of the Summoning Charm! I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

Roisin decided to simply tune him out to the best of her abilities as Harry threw one leg over the broomstick and kicked off. He shot past where Roisin was sitting, and she relaxed slightly at the look on his face.

It was the same one he wore during every Quidditch game Roisin had been nagged into attending, a look combining europhic freedom with intense concentration. Harry was going to treat the task as just another Quidditch Match, the Horntail as just another opposing team. The idea made Roisin want to bang her head against something solid, but if it worked, she would never complain about Quidditch being a stupid game again. At least, not for a month or two.

Harry was now high enough that he seemed no more than a speck against the sky, like when he was circling in a search for the snitch. He dived suddenly, the Horntail's head tracking him, and Luna let out a strangled squeak at Roisin's death grip, which only tightened as the dragon aimed a jet of fire a few feet in front of Harry, directly in his flight path.

There were screams and gasps from everyone (and a sharp elbow from Luna to make Roisin let go), but Harry swerved away as easily as dodging a bludger. If nothing else, Bagman was impressed. "Great Scott, he can fly! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared higher again, the Horntail following him. He dove a second time, but while he missed the flames, he wasn't fast enough to dodge the spiked tail, which caught him on the shoulder. Roisin hoped that the torn robes made the injury look worse that it really was.

The Horntail was clearly reluctant to leave her nest, so Harry started taunting her, staying just out of reach, but close enough to pose a threat. Finally, the magnificent beast reared up, spreading her huge, leathery wings – and Harry dove, speeding toward the ground as fast as he could, aiming for the golden egg.

And with a final burst of speed, he pulled up, and was soaring over the stands as the dragon-handlers rushed in and the crowd went wild with cheers and applause, cheered on by Bagman. "Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest Champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Roisin bid a quick farewell to Luna and headed straight for the First Aid tent, easily identified by Madam Pomfrey's strident tones ranting about dragons and irresponsible faculty endangering the student's lives. She hadn't quite reached it when she literally ran into Ron and Hermione. Sparing an icy look for the boy, Roisin quickly checked for the Matron, and then darted inside, grabbing her cousin in a relieved hug.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione's voice was higher than usual, and her cheeks were imprinted with fingernail marks from where she had probably been clutching her face in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

Harry had never been very good at dealing with girls, especially hysterical ones, so he looked at Ron, who was very white. "Harry, whoever put your name in that Goblet – I – I reckon they were trying to do you in!"

If she wasn't wrapped around her cousin for dear life, Roisin would have hit the redhead. Weeks of Ron treating Harry like scum, and he was acting like it had never happened? If any of Roisin's friends had tried that, or if Roisin herself had acted in such a way, there would have been a hexing! Harry's voice could have frozen a volcano. "Caught on, have you? Took you long enough."

There was a heavy silence. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly, but Harry beat him to it. "It's OK. Forget it."

The two boys grinned nervously at each other, and Hermione burst into tears. Harry suddenly looked an interesting combination of bewildered and alarmed as his other friend wailed, "You two are so _stupid_!"

Roisin had just enough time to untangle herself and dart out of the way as Hermione grabbed both boys in a hug and dashed out of the tent, howling. Roisin sighed. "Well done, and good luck with the scoring." She gave Harry a final hug, and chased after Hermione.

* * *

She managed to catch up with the other girl near the Champion's tent. "So, do you think that will be the end of it? If my friends or I had tried that, someone would have been hexed."

If nothing else, the statement calmed Hermione down a little as she stared at Roisin in shock. "You hex your own friends? I mean, yes, I'm surprised that Harry and Ron didn't come to blows over the whole mess, but hexes?"

Roisin raised an eyebrow. "You have encountered Draco when he's being particularly insufferable, yes? Desdemona, Greg and Vince get hexed to their chairs at least once per day around exams. If someone pulled what Ron did, then yes, hexes would be flying."

Hermione frowned. "If Harry accepted the apology, then it's over, but you have a point, and I should probably find them anyway. I'll see you at dinner?"

Roisin nodded, spotting Desdemona looking for her. "I'll try not to make any House-Elf comments this time. I'd better go find Draco before he says something stupid about Harry or Cedric. I can't wait until the day when he finally learns to keep his mouth shut."

The girls parted, Hermione to find her friends, and Roisin joining Desdemona in jumping around, squealing with delight as the other girl informed her that Harry was tied for first place.

Now all they had to do was get him through the Second and Third Tasks in one piece.

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_A/N: Sorry this took a while to get up, but the other three Champion vs. Dragon matches were hard to write. Hopefully they were acceptable._

_As always, Constructive Criticism is very much appreciated. If you think I did something wrong, or need improvement in certain areas, then tell me what those areas are, instead of just saying that I'm a bad writer who needs to take the story down. Seriously, it's called 'constructive' for a reason._

_Thanks, Nat._


	53. The Aftermath

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. We've been through this._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

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**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

After parting from Hermione, Roisin and Desdemona had located Draco just as he was about to make a very ill-advised remark. Which wasn't all that different from every other time he opened his mouth, come to think of it, except this time she didn't get there fast enough to stop him? "Hey, Diggory, good job with the dragon! Very Gryffindor-ish."

Roisin groaned and quickened her pace as Cedric, who had been talking to his father, turned around. "Thanks, Malfoy, but what do you mean by 'Gryffindor-ish'?"

If it wasn't totally inappropriate, it would have made for an impressive punch-line. "Because Hufflepuffs work hard to reach their goal, and Gryffindors charge around with their heads on fi- OW!"

Desdemona hit him upside the head, while Roisin summoned Crabbe and Goyle with an imperious snap of her fingers. "Draco needs to go to the Hospital Wing and see Madam Pomfrey. " The two boys paused, used to taking orders from Draco only. Roisin levelled her most intimidating glare. "NOW!"

The two boys joined Desdemona in dragging a loudly complaining Draco elsewhere, and Roisin turned back to the Diggorys. "I'm sorry about him. You'd think that he'd learn when to keep his mouth shut by now. Most of us actually are impressed by how you did."

Cedric grinned at her, shrugging off her apology, though his father still looked angry. "No offense taken. Hey, thanks for what you did yesterday. It really helped."

Roisin smiled back. "Not a problem. I was impressed by the dogs, and it's not like you could transfigure or transport a live Cerberus to distract the dragon."

Cedric looked faintly startled. "You caught that? I've had nearly everyone ask why I chose to use dogs, and wouldn't it have been better to have used something more agile, like a cat."

Roisin ran the possibilities through her mind. "I wouldn't think so. Cats are only connected to the Underworld in Egyptian Mythology, and dragons don't feature in that Culture. In cultures that do have Dragons, cats don't play any significant role. Not enough to gain a proper reaction, at least."

Amos Diggory chose this moment to pointedly clear his throat. Cedric started, "Oh, right. Dad, this is Miss Roisin O'Conner, I think Mr Weasley introduced her at the World Cup. Roisin, this is my Father, Amos Diggory."

Roisin smiled and held out a hand. "Pleased to meet you. You raised a fine son."

Her impression that Mr Diggory was one of those parents who loved to boast about his offspring was apparently correct, as his scowl was instantly replaced by a beaming smile. "You as well, young miss. I'm glad to see that Cedric is managing to breach the House Boundaries."

Cedric quickly changed the subject. "Speaking of which, Hufflepuff is probably setting up a party right now. Do you want to come?"

Roisin beamed at the invitation. "I'd love too. It'll take at least an hour for Draco to escape Madam Pomfrey and the others to get sick enough of his ranting to come and find me. I'll have to make at least an appearance at the Gryffindor and Durmstrang parties, too, though, so please don't be offended if I skip out early."

Cedric shrugged. "No problem. Do you think it'll only take an hour to find the Common Room, though? Prefects aren't allowed to tell the location or password, and your group haven't been there before to my knowledge."

Roisin rolled her eyes. "The Hufflepuffs go a certain direction when they lead the First-Years to the Common Room at the end of the Welcoming Feast. Every Common is guarded by something, and there's always a small rut where generations of students have stood outside trying to remember the password or whatever they do to gain entrance. Millicent and I figured that out in our First Year, so all they have to do is find the entrance and either start yelling or wait until someone has to make a kitchen run."

Mr Diggory muttered something about figuring it out like that being depressing, but Roisin pretended not to hear, especially as it was drowned out by Cedric's laughter as he led her off.

* * *

The Hufflepuffs had been wary but welcoming, once Cedric explained that Roisin had helped him with the task, and Roisin had spent a happy hour-and-a-half before Theo and Millicent came pounding on the statue and yelled for her to please do something about Draco.

Sending Cedric an 'I told you so' look and an apologetic wave, Roisin left, informed Draco to get over it and be thankful that she had stopped him before he got put in the hospital for real by the other Hufflepuffs, and left for Gryffindor Tower. She made it halfway there before literally running into the Trio and Sirius, who had apparently been looking for her.

Sirius had been even worse than Madam Pomfrey in fussing over Harry, and a great deal more descriptive in his opinion of the Tournament Officials. Since even being a Triwizard Champion didn't mean that your parents/guardians were allowed to move to Hogwarts for the duration of the Tournament (Although Amos Diggory had certainly tried, after seeing what his son would be facing), Sirius was forced to settle for spending the day glued to his godson's side, where Roisin finally met them.

Roisin smiled in greeting. "I know I said it already, but that was very well done. Now all we have to do is get you through the other two Tasks as well."

Hermione made a 'There, you see?' gesture at Ron, who ignored it in favour of changing the subject. "Well, we'd better go downstairs for your surprise party, Harry – Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

Harry might have forgiven Ron, but Roisin had no intention of being so lenient, and fully planned on calling him an idiot for as long as possible. "How is it a surprise party when you just told him about it, you moron?"

Ron glared at her. "Well, it was a surprise party until I told him!"

There was really no way to respond to that which wouldn't result in an actual fight, so Roisin let it go.

* * *

Idiot or not, Ron had been right about the Twins nicking a lot of food from the kitchen. There were mountains of cakes and other treats, and flagons of Butterbeer and pumpkin juice covered every other available surface. The twins' cohort in crime, Lee Jordan, had set off numerous fireworks, so the air was thick with stars and sparks. Dean Thomas, who was quite good at drawing, had put up some impressive banners, most of which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail on his firebolt, though some showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Roisin didn't know how he had managed to draw all of them in the few hours between the First Task and setting up the Party, but it must have taken a lot of work, which was the only reason that she felt slightly guilty about banishing Lee's remaining fireworks at the offensive banners, charring them beyond interpretation before a seventh-year put them out.

Luckily, Lee was too busy examining the Golden Egg, which Harry had left on a table, to notice that his fireworks had disappeared. "Blimey, this thing is heavy! Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

Several people cheered, echoing Lee. "Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!"

Grinning, Harry took the egg and prised it open-  
-and then promptly dropped it as the most Horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room, causing everyone to clap their hands over their ears. "Shut it!"

Seamus Finnigan stared at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "What was that? It sounded like a banshee… maybe you've got to fight one of those next, Harry!"

Pre-occupied with attempting to pry her cousin off her arm, Roisin spared a moment to look up, trying to pretend that her heart wasn't racing fast enough to rival a hummingbird. "I hope not, dragons were bad enough! Let _go,_ Seamus!"

Neville had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "It was someone being tortured! You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

That gave everyone pause, and George tried to lighten the atmosphere with a joke about their older brother and singing in the shower. Fred offered Hermione a jam tart, which instantly drew the attention of anyone within earshot, as the leaned closer, waiting to see what would happen. Hermione looked at the tart dubiously, and Fred grinned. "It's all right; I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams that you've got to watch…"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville… How about you, Roisin?"

Roisin didn't really associate with the twins unless she could help it, but she knew better than to touch anything that came from the Weasley Twins. It might sound stuck-up, but she was too proud to risk spontaneously turning into funny colours every time she hiccupped, which would have been right up the Twins' alley.

She was proven right when, only minutes later, Neville suddenly turned into a large canary. Roisin closed her eyes, wondering how long it would take before the rest of the school was spontaneously bursting into feathers, and the feasibility of sneaking some into the Beauxbatons carriage and blaming it on the Twins.

* * *

It had been pure luck that the annoying Beauxbatons boy had been the one to eat the canary cream, but since it was nearly a week after the First Task, and the Hogwarts students had been feeling the effects for days, no one could prove who was responsible, and the Weasley Twins got away free.

Meanwhile, December brought snow, and without the immediate anticipation of the Tournament, attention turned back to classes.

To many people's private (and some people's more obvious) glee, Hermione had been the last of the Arithmancy class to successfully complete the prediction unit, after which they turned to compatibility by numbers. Roisin didn't put much stock in this area, as far as actual people were concerned, as people seldom chose their own names, and even when they did, it was rare that they paid attention to the meanings.

Take Desdemona, for instance. The name itself meant 'sorrow', and the most notable use was in Shakespeare's "Othello", where Desdemona was the female protagonist, the sweet and demure, yet courageous daughter of a duke.

The Desdemona who was Roisin's best friend, on the other hand, was hardly associated with Sorrow (unless you were trying to study in the same general area, in which case _someone_ was going to wind up sorry), and was about as far from 'sweet and demure' as it was possible to be.

Even so, she would cheerfully take Compatible Personalities over Care of Magical Creatures, any day. Not only did the alcoholic fumes from the Beauxbatons horses' drinking trough make everyone light-headed, they were still tending the Skrewts, a task that required all the wit and concentration a student possessed.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering students in the windy pumpkin patch. Roisin wasn't sure either, and, quite frankly, didn't care. Hibernation until the weather warmed up sounded like a nice idea, though…

Oblivious to his students' obvious misery, Hagrid continued, "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip… we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes…"

The Skrewts had not outgrown the urge to kill each other, so there were now only ten left. Since each of those ten were trouble enough, especially now that they had reached six feet in length, this was not a great comfort, and the students gazed unhappily at the enormous boxes that Hagrid had produced, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets. This was not going to be fun…

As it turned out, Blast-Ended Skrewts did not hibernate, nor did they appreciate the class attempting to force them into the boxes. It took all of five minutes before Hagrid was yelling at everyone not to panic, while the Skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smouldering wreckage of the hibernation boxes. Deciding that her grade for the day was not worth the grievous bodily damage, Roisin had joined the majority of the class in fleeing into Hagrid's hut and barricading both entrances.

Sitting down and pulling out 'Tales of Beadle the Bard', the contents of which she had been comparing and contrasting against the similar Muggle versions, Roisin sighed. "Well, at least it's warm in here."

Blaise nudged a large pile of knitting out of the way and seated himself beside her. "Do you think anyone would notice if we snuck out the front door and made a run for it?"

Draco and several others peered out the window to see if the coast was clear. "I'd wait until they get the Skrewts under control, first. I'm not going out there while those things are still shooting fire everywhere."

Regrettably, he had a point, so the refugees just groaned and sat down to wait until the bell rang.

* * *

Roisin was always careful to keep on the right side of the House-Elves, and had taken to visiting the kitchens whenever possible, to stop Winky from sinking into too deep a depression. It was almost scary, how Winky was at once so desperate to please, but refused to hear a word against her former master, even if you were trying to comfort her.

Roisin had also been introduced to Dobby, another free elf who, unlike Winky, seemed thrilled at the idea of Freedom, and was cheerfully dressed in the most shockingly mis-matched outfit Roisin had ever seen, topped off with a tea-cozy that he wore like some kind of bizarre beret.

Roisin had also worked out a kind of system with the other House Elves, behind Winky's back. Despite Winky's misery at her disgrace, there was only so long she could go without working before she started to get twitchy. Roisin merely sat talking to the little Elf until she started to look edgy, and then quietly suggest that the other Elves seemed to be struggling with this or that task. Eternally eager to prove herself, Winky would then throw herself into working, and actually seem happy for a little while, before she became despondent again.

Winky had just finished such a bout of working, and was sitting with Roisin again when Dobby suddenly took off across the kitchen, nearly knocking Roisin off her chair in shock, shrieking "_Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!_"

Sure enough, the Gryffindor Trio were in the kitchens, the two boys looking somewhat reluctant, obviously having been dragged by a far more enthusiastic Hermione. As the Gryffindor had not yet, to Roisin's knowledge, given up on SPEW, Roisin doubted that this would end well. Still, this was one fiasco Roisin planned to stay out of, so she merely returned to her conversation with Winky, leaving Dobby to keep the Trio busy until Hermione said something to offend the House Elves.

It didn't take long, as Dobby started explaining his working conditions to the Trio, much to the obvious dismay of the other elves, who were horrified at the thought of wages and time off, even if it was only one galleon and one day a month. "…And Miss Roisin, ma'am, she has been coming to visit Winky…"

Three heads snapped over to look at Roisin, who they had somehow overlooked.

From the little half-attention Roisin had been paying the conversation between Dobby and the Gryffindors, Dobby had been gushing about his employment, which Hermione was loudly encouraging. Roisin frowned as several of the House Elves started looking shocked at Hermione's words. "Hermione, stop insulting the elves. They don't need wages to do good work."

She wasn't sure if Hermione's dirty look was due to Roisin's blunt opposition to her cause, or the fact that most of the elves were now looking at Roisin with the same near-reverence that Dobby gave to Harry.

Either way, it didn't really matter. She looked at the clock, which was saying that she would be late for a study session if she didn't get moving. "I have an Ancient Runes study session to go to, and someone needs to make Draco shut up about Care of Magical Creatures. Winky, I'll be back when I can."

She leaned down to hug Winky goodbye, as she had seen Dobby do once, and was promptly alarmed when the tiny elf burst into tears. "Miss Roisin is so nice to poor, disgraced Winky! Good Master Barty used to hug Winky, before she shamed the family! Winky misses her family and her home!"

Later, Roisin thought that she should be forgiven for panicking in the face of even-more-distressed-than-usual House Elf. "Well, I'm too young to have my own family or house, but when I do, you can come and be my elf, if Dumbledore will let you go."

Hermione's dirty look upgraded to an outraged glare, and Roisin thought it a very good time to leave. It was tempting to stick around to see how long it would take before the House Elves politely threw the Gryffindor Trio out of the kitchens, but Roisin really did have a study session to go to, especially if she wanted to keep near the top of the class. Really, all of the regular top students were facing new and serious competition. Hermione's recent failure in Arithmancy had spurred even the less motivated students to see if they could temporarily top her in anything else, with the result that Roisin had been forced to work just as hard simply to maintain her position in the top five overall.  
The teachers were pleased, though, and Madam Pince was alternating between delight and dismay that the library had never been so active. Yelena thought it was funny, but she was about the only one, except for when the Beauxbatons boy had tried to impress some of the female students with a 'studious' attitude, and had accidentally picked up the "Monster Book of Monsters".

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_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. Moving house (packing, unpacking, organizing movers, phone, internet, electricity etc.), TAFE Assignments and starting work take up a lot of my time, so I don't have much room for writing. Hopefully things will settle down soon, and updates won't take so long._

_To "**Liz the Nitpicker Moon**": As you didn't login, I'll reply to you here. Can you point out where I mis-typed 'Ginerva'? I went over the chapter and as far as I saw only used it once. Most of the time she is known as Ginny, which is therefore what I used for the most part. Regarding your pet peeve (I got it the first time, BTW, no need to repeat it constantly) I'm not begging for reviews, only requesting that people be mature and leave constructive criticism if they so choose. Sorry if you misinterpreted that._


	54. Anticipation and Apprehension

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR**

Roisin was sitting outside, enjoying the rare winter sun, when Harry dropped down beside her. "You know, I think I could go for another round with the Horntail, right now."

Roisin stifled a giggle and tried to look appropriately sympathetic, easily guessing what this was about.

Notices for a Yule Ball, apparently a Traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, had been announced, and while it had caused several boys to go pale, most of the female population was ecstatic. Giggles and Whispering were the names of the day as everyone talked about who they hoped would ask them, and whether they thought so-and-so would ask such-and-such to the Ball.

As a currently-single Triwizard Champion, Harry was a prime catch, and had been bombarded with offers since the moment it had been announced. His main problem, however, was that he wanted to go with someone in particular, and was having trouble asking her, what with the constant propositions and the Ravenclaw tendency to travel in flocks. At least Gryffindor was getting a break from the less-than-flattering House Mascot Jokes.  
It couldn't have been fun for Harry, but it did give Roisin perspective on her own situation. She had a boyfriend, but one didn't just _assume_ that they were going together! If one of the couple didn't ask, it made both of them look desperate and needy.

Crabbe and Goyle were going alone by choice, only going at all because Professor Snape had informed them that any Slytherin eligible to attend _would_ be doing so. End of story.

Pansy and Draco were going together (Pansy had declared open season on him that summer, and Draco didn't seem to mind her intentions), while Desdemona had given up on waiting for Theo to make the first move, and asked him instead. Theo had been too busy with homework to really pay attention, and Desdemona had bounced off before he had a chance to realize what he had agreed to.

Millicent was going with Dean Thomas from Gryffindor, much to everyone's shock. It seemed that someone had made an unkind remark in Millie's hearing about how no one would ask a girl who looked like a bulldog. Dean Thomas had also overheard, and had apparently received a similar comment regarding skin colour earlier. Seeing Millicent's upset face, he had promptly asked her to the ball. It was a bit of a _'screw that lot and their opinions'_ gesture, but it was also quite sweet, as far as Roisin was concerned.

This left Roisin at something of a loose end. She knew who she _wanted_ to go with, but Blaise hadn't said anything, and every time she tried to ask, Blaise would smile at her and she would turn to mush. Roisin knew that she was a bit too proud at times, but this was getting ridiculous.

Roisin was starting to get desperate, and even considered some of Desdemona's suggestions of grabbing his attention, a sure sign of the apocalypse, when Blaise approached her as they were about to leave Potions.

Ignoring the fact that her blush probably had her glowing to rival a Christmas Tree, Roisin waited for him to speak. Blaise actually looked nervous, a rare change from the calm, collected look he usually wore. "Um, Rose, listen, I was wondering… I mean, I know I left it late, and saying I forgot is a bad excuse, but would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

It came out in a bit of a rush, but four years of listening to Desdemona allowed her to decipher it easily. "I'd love to go with you, Blaise. Shall we meet in the Common Room before the Ball? What are you wearing?"

Blaise grinned, and Roisin could detect a fair amount of relief in both body language and voice. "Black, I'm afraid. You?"

Roisin smiled. That was good; black went with just about anything. "Blue and silver. Grandmother thought that green would provoke too many 'Slytherin mascot' jokes."

Blaise's nervous smile grew to a full-blown smirk. "Probably. May I walk you to lunch?"

Roisin thought that she might be glowing. She had a date for the Ball, and it was sure to be the best night of her life so far! "Of course you may. Shall we?"

* * *

Given the upcoming celebrations, Roisin wanted to have her work finished as soon as possible. This goal in mind, she collected her things and made a beeline for the library. Rumor had it that Hermione Granger had set up shop there to avoid the rest of her year mates, who were apparently the worst of the school when it came fussing over the ball.

Roisin didn't think that Parvati was that bad, personally, just excited about the Ball, but that was beside the point.

Sure enough, Hermione was seated at a table in the corner, books spread out around her. Roisin considered for a moment. Hermione had perfected the ability of ignoring un-wanted distractions, so she would need to deliver something of a shock to get her attention. A smirk slid across her face. Perfect.

She walked briskly over to the table and set her books down. "So, I heard that Flint was thinking of asking you to the Yule Ball."

Hermione's hand slipped, knocking several books off the table as she looked at Roisin in pure horror. In all fairness, Roisin couldn't blame her. "Please tell me you are having me on."

Roisin grinned. "Yes, I just needed to get your attention. Actually, he's going with some Quidditch-obsessed chick from Hufflepuff. No accounting for taste." She sat down, "So, any ideas on the Transfiguration essay?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the potential double meaning, as Roisin hadn't mention precisely who lacked taste, but didn't comment. "You wanted help on homework?"

Roisin shrugged. "Partially. I also wanted someone to talk to. Laughing at Harry's attempts to ask out Cho Chang is fun, but I don't like the girl, and bagging her out with my housemates will only turn into bagging Harry out, which I don't enjoy. Plus we haven't really had a chance to talk lately."

Hermione actually laughed. "Sounds fair. Besides, my head is starting to hurt from the brainless chatter that indicates a certain Durmstrang boy is on his way. So, has anyone asked you to the Ball yet."

Roisin smiled. "Blaise asked me just after Potions. What about you? Did you know that Millicent is going with Dean Thomas?"

Hermione almost choked. "Dean is going with Bulstrode! No wonder he got huffy when the Weasley Twins started placing bets on if the Slytherin girls would get asked to the ball. Harry started getting annoyed when they reached your name. Remind me to congratulate Dean."

Roisin nodded. "Remember to congratulate Dean." (Hermione shot her an annoyed look) "Remind _me_ to hex the Weasley Twits. You're dodging the question, by the way. I'm going with Blaise, obviously, and has anyone asked you?"

Hermione sighed. "A few boys who wanted to hook up with an older girl so they could attend the Ball approached me, but I'm not so desperate that I'll agree to be the means-to-an-end-woman. Word is that Neville Longbottom is going to ask, but I'm not sure what I'll say."

Roisin supposed that you couldn't share a dorm with Parvati and Lavender without picking up a few bits of gossip, and winced in sympathy. "No offense to the boy, but find any reason not to accept. He's nice and all, but your feet will hate you by a quarter of the way through the night, if not before."

Hermione nodded in sad agreement, then shot another glare at Krum's admirers. "I'd love to help with your assignment, but I really can't think with those idiots around."

Roisin smirked, she could see Madam Pince hovering nearby. "Leave it to me. Madam Pince likes you, right?"

Hermione gave a confused nod, and Roisin schooled her face into a pleading expression as she approached the librarian. "Madam Pince? Is there a limit to the books I can take out? It's just, Hermione and I are working on a difficult essay, and we really can't concentrate with those girls chattering on about how cute a boy is. They might think that it's fascinating, but it really doesn't make for a good study environment."

Madam Pince scowled and descended on the group like an eagle on a flock of pigeons as Roisin walked back to the table. "Piece of cake."

Roisin had the feeling that she had just risen much higher in Hermione Granger's esteem with that stunt, and they had just re-opened the books when someone cleared their throat behind them and a Bulgarian accent asked, "Excuse me."

Both girls turned around to see Viktor Krum standing nearby. Hermione looked like a deer caught in headlights, to borrow the Muggle term, and Roisin's acidic remark died on her lips as she raised an eyebrow. "Hi. Did you need something or just wanted to escape your fans?"

Krum mirrored Hermione's trapped expression, which Roisin found slightly amusing. Yelena had said that he was a bit of a private person. "Right. Hermione, I think there's a book on the other side of the library that I need. I'll be back in ten minutes."  
She didn't need a book, and if Hermione had really been paying attention, she would have noticed that the other end of the library was the restricted section. Roisin couldn't wait to see the look on Ron Weasley's face, if her predictions were correct. Maybe a quick bit of Arithmancy prediction would fill the ten minutes of standing around doing nothing.

* * *

Roisin had never stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas before, but she doubted that it had ever had this many students stay over the holidays at least in living memory.

The Yule Ball was approaching quickly, and Roisin had heard a number of boys complaining about how hard it was to ask a girl to the ball when they insisted on going everywhere in packs. Admittedly, this was, for the most part, true, but Roisin felt that they were missing the point. All boys had to do was ask. Girls had to worry about if anyone would ask them in the first place, if they would be asked by the person they actually wanted to go with, and if they wanted to risk going alone by refusing someone who did ask. Slytherin House proved no exception, and Roisin had overheard a Seventh-Year remarking on how glad she was that this wasn't taking place a hundred years ago, when refusing more than one request meant not being able to dance at all. Safely paired up, the Fourth Year girls amused themselves by watching the other students dance around each other trying to get a date.

The first day of holidays, one week before the ball, the Slytherin girls were walking through the courtyard when they were interrupted by a shout of "Roisin! Wait up!"

Pointing out the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain facing off against Cormac McLaggen, while Fleur Delacour watched with an exasperated expression, the Slytherins turned around, greeted by the sight of Parvati Patil hurrying toward them. Roisin sighed. This didn't seem promising. "Go on without me, guys. I'll catch up."

Turning to face the Indian girl, she raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong."

Surprisingly, Parvati blushed. "Well, you see, Harry asked me to the Ball, and since you're the only girl who really knows him other than Hermione, I wanted your advice on a few things. Can you spare a few minutes?"

Meddling in Harry's potential love-life? Normally she would have turned around and left, but with the stress of the Tournament, the least she could do was give Parvati a nudge to make sure Harry could enjoy himself for one night. Besides, even Parvati would probably be better for him than Chang. The Ravenclaw Seeker was pleasant enough, but she was far too emotional and high-maintenance, even if she wasn't hung up on Diggory. "All right, what did you want advice on?"

They sat down on a nearby bench, dodging a rush of spectators as Cormac threw the first punch. "Well, has Harry had any previous experience with girls? I mean, has he ever had a date for some kind of occasion, or does he know how he is expected to behave as Champion? Does he like to dance, or do you think he would prefer to sit most of them out? He doesn't seem to like the idea of a ball in the first place, is there any way I would be able to make him more comfortable with it?"

Hmm. Good Questions, even if they did come out in a bit of a rush. "Harry doesn't know many girls aside from me, Ginny Weasley and Hermione, and he's just friends with them. Despite the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' bit, the closest he's come to a social occasion is the Quidditch world cup. Harry hates being the center of attention, so ignore the fact that you're going with a Champion and the Boy-Who-Lived and remember that it's still the shy and danger-prone Harry. He doesn't dance well, so you are going to spend at least a few of them sitting down, but you could try asking him to practice with you and teach him a few new ones. Even try just making it up as you go along."

Parvati smiled at her in relief. "Thanks, Roisin. Professor McGonagall is holding dance lessons, so at least we'll have a starting point. Hey, are you and the other Slytherin girls getting ready by yourselves? There's a group from the other houses who were planning on helping each other get ready, if you want to join us."

Roisin returned the smile. Parvati's Harry-induced joy might have made her far more tolerant, but it was unlikely that the other houses would share the sentiment. It was nice of Parvati to offer, though, even if it wouldn't be happening. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

Giving Parvati a nod, Roisin left to catch up with her friends. She would have to make sure to talk to Harry about how to act, as well. Meddling in other people's love-lives was fun.

* * *

The next morning saw Roisin up early. Showering and dressing in record time, she made her way up to breakfast, where she grabbed a muffin and a seat with a good view of the door, planning to ambush Harry when he came down.

Fifteen minutes later, she was rewarded. The Gryffindor boys were finding strength in unity, it seemed, and had developed some kind of awareness of girls on the prowl. It was really rather amusing to see the trapped look on their face when she approached. "Congratulations, Thomas. Harry, a word?"

Leaving Dean to fend off questions of why he was being congratulated by a Slytherin, she pulled Harry over to the little room off the Hall. "So, I was talking to Parvati the other day."

Harry looked at her, still appearing something like a deer in headlights. "You were? I mean, I asked her to the Yule Ball, but it was kind of a last resort, and you never really talk to Gryffindors, so…"

Roisin cut him off. "She approached me because she knew that you would be under a lot of pressure at the Ball and was asking for suggestions on how she could make it more comfortable for you. Even you need to have fun once in a while."

That hadn't been the exact phrasing, but it was the general gist of the conversation. The deer-in-headlights expression fell away, leaving Harry looking both pleased and surprised. "She did? What did you say?"

Roisin sighed. "First of all, _don't_ tell Parvati whether or not you asked someone else first, no-one wants to know that they were a second choice. She wanted to know if you danced or if you preferred to watch and how she could make you feel more at ease at the Ball. I said that you hadn't gone to many social events, and suggested that you practice dancing together at some point, and that she remember that you were Harry, not just a Tri-Wizard Champion, like most of the girls who already asked you seem to think."

Harry looked relieved. "Thanks, Roisin. Professor McGonagall is dragging the whole House into a dancing lesson, so I'll start from there. Maybe try to spend some time talking with her before the ball…"

After the first two words, Harry was more or less talking to himself. Roisin stopped herself from rolling her eyes, giving one last piece of advice before heading back to her table. "Harry? If you did ask someone before Parvati, _do not_ spend the entire ball staring at them. It's rude and inconsiderate, especially since she was nice enough to think of you and how you would like the ball. Parvati is a nice girl, so treat her like it."

Most of the Slytherins had been sneaking around like crazy, trying to find out what dances there would be, in order to narrow down what they needed to practice.

* * *

Roisin would be the first to say that subtlety was an excellent trait to have, and that discretion was almost always the better part of valour. However, she would also be one of the first to point out that sometimes the most direct way was the best and most effective.

Citing a desire to not embarrass Hogwarts by messing up or not knowing the dances, Roisin asked Professor McGonagall, and received not only a list of dances, but also signed permission to use one of the empty classrooms to practice up to fifteen minutes after curfew, and ten points to Slytherin.

The opening dance was to be a slow, graceful waltz, though Roisin thought that this was probably more in order to show off the champions than for people to actually dance. Several couples would probably join in, if only to bask in the reflected light of the Tri-Wizard Champions. Harry was almost certain to hate it.

After that, the rest of the first set was a series of Branle dances, which, as the name implied, was a 'last person standing' type of dance. A series of fairly simple steps repeated over and over at an increasingly fast pace until there were no longer enough dancers to keep going. Still, it was a good choice for a first set, as people would be more inclined to catch their breath over dinner at the end of the set.

There would also be a number of dances from other countries all over Europe, some danced in couples, and others in groups. She mentioned the anticipated dances to Parvati, and therefore the gossip network, which resulted in a slew of practice groups, from all four Houses.

Roisin reflected that it was a good thing that the teachers were easing up and being unusually lenient as far as Christmas Homework was concerned, (well, most of them: Professor Snape would dress up as the Christmas Tree Angel before he let them off on homework.) or her marks would be in significant trouble.

* * *

Then, of course, there was yet another issue, which had several people even more reluctant than they had been when trying to find a date. It was considered rude and uncouth not to dance, and so everyone would participate at least once if they didn't want to face the wrath of Snape and/or McGonagall.

Most of the Slytherins had been brought up in high society, and were proficient in classical dances like the waltz. For those that didn't, or were out of practice, Professor Snape pulled in several favors to foist them off on Professor McGonagall's dancing lessons.

Roisin had been learning to dance since she entered the Wizarding World (like a revolution, no party was complete without dancing, after all) and was at least 'passable', but most of the dances she knew were traditional folk dances, rather than things like waltzing.

Having no intention of making a fool of herself, Roisin had asked Yelena for help. Yelena had grabbed the opportunity to fine-tune Peter's dancing skills, as they were at Hogwarts as representatives of their School and Country. They had covered the minuet and the Laendler, in case the band decided to widen their culture-scope, and even the basics of Jazz. Rumour had it that McGonagall was going to cover the waltz, which provided the excuse needed to get into Gryffindor's lessons and poke fun at them.

The female half of Gryffindor looked as though they couldn't wait to start the lesson, while the male half looked as though they would feel safer facing a nundu. Harry actually looked grateful that he was injured and therefore had a certain amount of leeway. Professor McGonagall gave a short introduction, describing the Yule Ball as 'an evening of well-mannered frivolity', which had several students smothering giggles. The giggles either stopped dead or greatly increased when Ron Weasley was called up to help with the demonstration.

If Roisin were to venture a guess, she would say that the Professor had overheard his comment about Eloise Midgien and thought equal embarrassment would serve him right. Seeing Theo elbow Blaise sharply when he let out a loud wolf-whistle, followed by much giggling (and answered by the beginning of a violent and very rude gesture before Professor McGonagall cut him off) Roisin spent several seconds being amused at the red-head's frantic efforts before Professor McGonagall beckoned everyone to rise and partner off.

For some inexplicable reason, the male half looked supremely reluctant. Blaise's voice was pitched to carry as he walked over and bowed to Roisin. "So much for Gryffindor bravery."

Roisin curtsied in response and took his hand. Relaxing in her boyfriend's arms as he led her into a stately waltz, Roisin couldn't stop herself from smiling.

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* * *

_A/N: Yes, it has been far too long, and I'm not going to make excuses._

_I'm not entirely happy with the chapter ending, but the lead up and the Yule Ball together would have been far too long. Fortunately for everyone, the Yule Ball is mostly written, and shouldn't take nearly as long._

_On a related note, a friend has dared me to write a Sorting Song in Haiku. Should I ignore her, or give it a go?_

_Thanks, Nat_


	55. The Yule Ball

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. You'd think ff.n would stop making me say it by now._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

Having decided that come Hell or High Water, Harry would find _something_ in this wretched Tournament enjoyable, Roisin had taken to spending what remained of her spare time in the Gryffindor Common Room, giving Harry and Parvati the occasional nudge to spend time together so they would at least have a nice night together. Hermione was a good friend, but not so good at socializing with other people. It had been pure luck that had seen Roisin helping Seamus with his Potions homework when Ron had attempted to ask Hermione to the ball, and concern that sent her running after Hermione in time to miss Harry asking Parvati, but it provided obvious proof that the redhead couldn't be trusted with _anything_, as far as girls were concerned.

Proof that her efforts were paying off came with a letter from Sirius, when Harry actually bothered to wave and greet Parvati before huddling with Ron and Hermione to open it. Enjoying the pleasant feeling of a sneaky job well done, Roisin wandered across the room to read over their shoulder.

"_Harry,_

_Congratulations on getting past the Dragon! Whoever entered you in the Tournament can't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjuntivitis Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point-"_

"That's what Krum did!" Ron's interjection was not entirely welcome, as Harry had already been told this – in detail – at least five times since the end of the First Task. Roisin nudged Harry to continue. _"- but your way was better. I'm impressed. Don't get complacent, though, you've only done one Task. Whoever put you in the Tournament still has plenty more chances if they're trying to get to you."_

"He sounds like Moody! Constant Vigilance!" Harry sounded indignant. Roisin rolled her eyes. It was only paranoia if people weren't really out to get you, and in Harry's case they WERE.

"_Keep your eyes open, especially when the person we talked about is around, and concentrate on keeping out of trouble. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Keep in touch._

_Sirius"_

Roisin couldn't help a giggle. "Does he remember who he's talking to? You attract trouble like smoke attracts fire!"

Hermione gave her an odd look. "Smoke doesn't attract fire. It's the natural result of the fuel being consumed, so where there is fire, there is smoke."

Roisin smirked. "Exactly."

* * *

Yule gifts were a bit more specialized this year, what with the Yule Ball, which no-one staying for the holidays could have missed. Roisin wondered if Greg or Vince would ever progress past candy as a gift, but admitted that it was a good fall-back. Being a girl, there were times when chocolate really could solve everything. There was a book on Irish Legends from Millicent, who had clearly collaborated with the others, as Pansy had provided the sequel, and Desdemona and Theo gifted her with the accompanying comparisons between the Magical and Muggle versions.

Blaise had given her a lovely hair-clip of carved sandalwood, which Roisin promptly decided was the best gift ever, due to the hair-dressing charms that prevented loose and fly-away hair, the bane of her existence in Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. Some people might have complained about the lack of imagination, but the fact that Blaise had listened to her even when she was discussing inconsequential things, and chosen something based on that, meant far more than any fancy or extravagant trinket.

The gift from Draco was also very nice. He had probably enlisted female help for the stunning ruby and diamond broach that Pansy was cooing over, a guess confirmed by the note accompanying Roisin, Desdemona and Millicent's gifts, protesting that they now had no excuse not to wear them, as he had asked for qualified advice from the same person who had helped him choose Pansy's broach.

Roisin considered sending him a return note telling him not to be so defensive, and that Narcissa Malfoy had excellent taste, but decided that it might be too much of a blow to his pride. She was quietly surprised that Narcissa had bothered to look into the latest _Teen Witch_ fashions, especially since this was a newly emerging style that had only come out a few weeks ago.

Roisin wasn't sure if it would ever catch on with the general population, and the introductory article had included a comment that many wouldn't wear it unless they wanted to look like they were marching into battle, but she thought that it was very nice. The style involved using chainmail links, rather than the more traditional multiple strands, in the more elaborate kinds of necklace, bracelet or earring.

The necklaces were in a choker style, with a teardrop stone dropping from the center. Roisin's had three rows as the main choker, with five evenly spaced triangles linked by three smaller, non-interlinked, chains with a tiny aquamarine at each end. Roisin went to the mirror to put hers on, then sat down at her desk to pen a thank you note to Mrs. Malfoy.

Folding up the note, Roisin sealed and waded through the wrapping paper to find a comfortable day robe. She wouldn't be wearing it for more than a few hours before changing for the ball, so there was no need to dress up, but the Professors frowned on wandering around in pajamas. The hair-clip from Blaise was as good as she had thought, and Roisin made her way to the owlery.

She was met on the way by Harry, who carried a large package that he said was a Christmas Gift for Sirius. He also had a much smaller package that he handed Roisin. It turned out to be a carved wooden bracelet that had Roisin raising an eyebrow, as Harry had even less idea about jewelry than most boys his age.

Harry flushed. "I asked Parvati to help me pick it out, since you helped me chose one for her. I was trying to think of something she'd enjoy doing on the last-minute Hogsmeade trip that Professor McGonagall organized."

Roisin had heard about that from Susan Bones, when Professor Sprout had allowed Hufflepuff to go, in the spirit of equal opportunity. Professor Snape had gone on a rant about Gryffindors flouting the rules and how he would not condone such a thing. The Slytherins had dutifully listened, nodding at the right points, before most of them snuck out anyway. Lavender had booked Parvati's assistance for an hour before Harry (whose crash-course in being a considerate date and/or boyfriend was clearly paying off, if he was willing to subject himself to fashion-shopping) could ask Parvati to accompany him on a date, which had left him with the opportunity to beg Roisin to help pick out a Christmas gift for Parvati and Hermione.

Hermione had been the recipient on a bracelet made of linked brass books, while Parvati had received a brass cuff, engraved with an image of the Hindu Goddess Parvati. Roisin reminded herself to thank Parvati at the first opportunity.

* * *

After Christmas Lunch, replacing the Christmas Feast this year, it seemed that every student in the castle, both Hogwarts and visitor, piled outside for a snowball war. Teams were formed, lines were drawn, innocent bystanders were forcefully conscripted, and the end result was the three competing schools getting on better than they ever had.

Or likely ever would again, once the holidays ended and everyone remembered about the Tournament. Roisin dimly recalled hearing about similar circumstances in a History Lesson focusing on the World Wars in Muggle Primary school, when their teacher had told them about the opposite sides declaring a truce and having what passed for games and a party on Christmas Day, and going right back to shooting each other first thing the next morning.

* * *

After several hours of snow and laughter, most of the girls made their way back inside. Roisin shook her head as Ron yelled after Hermione about how she couldn't possibly need four hours to get ready, dismissing it as one of those things that boys just Didn't Get. Balls were big events, after all, and it wouldn't do to show up looking anything short of breathtaking. The Slytherin girls had ultimately declined Parvati's offer, knowing that not everyone was feeling grateful about having help with their date, and would therefore not be quite as accepting of a group of Slytherins.

So, the Fourth Years gathered in their Dorm room, barricaded the door, and set to work. Roisin's Dress Robes were made of dusky blue silk, trimmed with Celtic patterns in silver and gold thread, and a matching girdle. Roisin added the necklace that Draco had given her just that morning and joined Desdemona at the central table, where the girls had pooled their hair resources, experimenting with hairstyles. "How do you think the ball will go? More importantly, do you think I look all right?"

Pansy looked up from where she was looking through her jewelry box. Pansy's robes were ruffled, and a soft pink color. The discreet pale grey trimming, with her dark eyes and blonde hair, gave a slight impression of the morning sky just before sunrise. "If anyone doesn't see you as anything less than stunning, they are either blind or in denial. Should I wear rubies tonight, or do you thing rose quartz would look better?"

Millicent's dress was green, and gave her a very slimming look. While by no means fat, Millicent was solidly built, and her robes took away from that, drawing more attention to her shoulders and implying an elegant, rather than curvy, stature. She looked through her closet for shoes as she answered Pansy's question. "Rose quartz. Rubies would be too flashy with that dress. Try the teardrop necklace-and-earring combination. Put it down, Desdemona, there is no way you can wear silver accessories when you already have obvious bronze accents."

Desdemona wore deep purple, with a wide bronze sash at the waist. In an amazing contrast to her usual behavior, the girl was calm and almost restrained when sitting down to do her hair. It didn't stop her from scowling at Millicent as she put down the silver hair band, however. "Fine, fine, fine. Does anyone have something I _can_ use?"

Holding a jeweled hair-clasp against her head to see how it looked, Roisin shook her head and put it down again. Looking over at Desdemona's options, Roisin spotted a decorated bronze hair-band and pointed them out to Desdemona, then contemplated a silver diadem that Fionna had given her for the Lughnasadh festival over the summer holidays.

Millicent joined them. "Curls or straight, up or down?" she shook her head, "I am so glad we don't have to do this every day. Far too stressful."

Pansy laughed as she picked up the curling iron and started on her own hair. There was probably a spell to do your hair, but it was more fun this way, even if it did take longer. "Can you imagine showing up late for a first class and saying it was because you were busy doing your hair?"

That did paint an amusing picture. After the giggles died down, they set back to business. Desdemona settled with the hair-band, piling her hair up in a style not dissimilar to that of ancient Greece. Roisin decided on a pair of silver combs, and Millicent finally elected for an elegant twist.

Finally ready, the girls walked out of their Dorm and headed for the Common Room, feeling very confident. Blaise clearly agreed, as he actually stumbled for words upon seeing her. They lined up with the rest of the House and paraded up to the Great Hall. Slytherin might not be Triwizard Champions, but that didn't mean that they couldn't make their own dramatic entrance.

* * *

The Champions entered together, and Roisin held back a smirk at being perhaps the only one not doing a double-take at the sight of Hermione with Victor Krum. Parvati was smiling, and waved at Roisin, but a careful eye would notice that she was holding Harry's arm a little tighter than necessary, and that Harry was ever-so-slightly accepting the support.

The Triwizard Champions opened the Yule Ball, after a short speech from Dumbledore. It was a slow waltz, to get everyone started, with just the four Champions at first, and other couples slowly joining in. Chancing a glance at Harry as the music ended and everyone bowed to their partner, Roisin could see that he was relieved to have survived the first dance, and a note of faint surprise that it wasn't as horrible as he might have thought.

The second dance of the opening set was the San Serif, which was a lot faster than the waltz. This dance consisted of two double-steps, then a spin with your partner and clapping, then spinning three times to the next partner. This repeated, faster and faster, until people began to dizzily drop out, usually after having crashed into someone due to disorientation. It ended just in time, when a very familiar (and not in a good way) Beauxbatons boy, who had continued out of a misplaced sense of pride, lost the ability to remain upright and face-planted straight into Yelena's cleavage.

Viktor, standing next to the unfortunate boy, managed to catch Yelena before she could inflict any lasting damage, and the Weird Sisters wisely decided that it was time for a break. Blaise wobbled slightly as he escorted Roisin to a nearby table, but she hardly noticed, too busy attempting to walk in a straight line.

Harry and Parvati, having wisely chosen to sit that one out, grinned as the others made their admittedly shaky way back and collapsed into their seats.

There was a short break as the musicians gave their lungs and/or hands a quick rest, and the dancers located friends, tables to sit at, and people they wanted to talk to. The Champions had two tables reserved near the Head table, where the Headmasters and various Professors and Ministry Officials were seated. Whoever did the seating arrangements clearly had some sense, placing the Champions in view, but with enough room to socialize with friends rather than be bored speaking to adults.

The first dance of the next set was the 'Branle de l'official', or 'Dance of the Officers', a French country dance that was welcomed by the foreign students, despite the warning that any wandering hands would probably result in hexes. A double-step left, then a double-right, repeat, then six single steps, then the man's hands on the girl's waist as she jumped and he turned.

As the dance sped up, the last part was when the 'accidents' happened.

Luckily, most people had learned from the encounter between Yelena and the Beauxbatons boy, and were a bit more careful about touching things they shouldn't. Passed from Blaise to Draco to Harry, Roisin smiled at Dean as he lifted her, having seen the smile on Millicent's face. "I'm glad Millie is enjoying herself."

Dean grinned back as he passed her back to Blaise again. "Here's hoping it lasts."

Roisin rather thought that it just might.

* * *

Leaving the dance floor after a particularly fast-paced dance, Blaise offered to get drinks from the single bowl that the Weasley Twins hadn't managed to spike. (One of the Slytherin Seventh Years had snuck in before the Ball and warded it against foreign substances.) Thanking him, Roisin joined Harry and Parvati, who were resting with Ron and Parvati's sister, Padma.

Harry and Parvati greeted her with a smile, but Ron wore a particularly sour look as he watched Hermione dancing with Krum (Roisin thought that the disappointment served him right; _everyone_ had heard about the way he had asked Hermione to the ball) and Padma was glaring at Ron for ignoring her.

Parvati shot a glance at Roisin's flushed face. "You look like you're having fun. Where did your date go?"

Roisin was still catching her breath, and took a few moments to reply. "Getting drinks, dancing wears you out after a while."

Glancing at the punch table, and the fact that several other boys were also getting drinks for their dates, Harry caught on and offered to get a drink for Parvati, if she was thirsty. Roisin smiled as Parvati almost glowed, but declined.

Roisin couldn't help but think that Ron was being very immature, and felt sorry for Padma. Parvati's twin had clearly made an effort to look nice for the Ball, even going with someone who hadn't even bothered to ask her properly, and was now stuck as a wallflower. Luckily, Blaise had noticed the same thing almost as soon as he returned with drinks. "Do you mind if I ask Padma for a set, Rose? The poor girl deserves to get something out of her first Ball."

Roisin smiled at him gratefully. "You're sweet, Blaise. Please do, Padma looks miserable just sitting there."

When Blaise held out a hand to Padma as the next set began, the girl ignored Ron entirely and gave both Blaise and Roisin a blinding smile as the band struck up a fast-paced jig. Roisin smiled at the sight and turned back to the storm brewing between Ron and Hermione, who had just joined them, regarding Hermione's attendance with an opposing Champion. "I suppose he asked you while you were both in the library?"

Hermione looked ready to snap, and Roisin didn't blame her, but was grateful that the girl didn't seem to have easy access to her wand. "Actually, yes, he did! You can ask Roisin, if you don't believe me."

Danger Area! Roisin knew her chances of being caught in the middle of this (high-eighties to mid-nineties percent), and swiftly back-pedaled. "Whoa, hey, leave me out of this!" Looking around, she spotted Desdemona, who was exchanging glares with a Beauxbatons girl, and jumped at the chance to escape. "I'm going to talk to some of the others."

* * *

Most likely at the prodding of a disgruntled Karkaroff, the band did strike up the Laendler as the opening to the fifth set. Viktor smoothly led Hermione through the opening steps (Hermione had obviously approached dancing like any other area of study), and Fleur managed to save face as a Durmstrang boy asked her to dance, but Harry, Parvati and Cho all froze.

Amos Diggory worked in the Department of International Relations and delighted in showing off his son, so Cedric knew dances from all over the world. Blaise wanted a break from dancing, but Roisin wasn't ready to quit, and after a quick raised eyebrow to Blaise, returned with a brief smile, grabbed the chance. "May I cut in?"

Looking relieved at the plausible escape, but casting Roisin a warning glare, Cho vacated the dance floor as Cedric bowed and Roisin curtsied.

* * *

It was well after midnight when the Ball finally ended. A few inter-house or –school couples dallied in the shadows for a slightly more involved good-night, and the rest made their way back to their Houses.

Greg had fallen victim to the spiked punch, and the rest of the Fourth-Year boys were preoccupied with keeping him under control, so Roisin contented herself with a brief kiss goodnight, before she slipped back out to wait for Millicent. Being dragged away by Pansy, Desdemona sighed dreamily, still in a happy daze from the Yule Ball. "I want to pin Theo to the wall and snog his brains out."

Roisin nearly fell over her own feet. "You know what; I could have gone my_ entire life_ without knowing that. Are you sure you didn't drink something the Weasley Twins spiked?"

Her friend sighed again. "Who needs spiked drinks? I'm drunk on love and happiness!"

Roisin growled under her breath. "Among other things. Goodnight, Desdemona, I don't know whether or not to hope you remember this in the morning."

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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_A/N: It took a bit longer than I'd planned, but this chapter is doubling as a celebration for finally finishing (and Passing) my TAFE course! The Sorting Haiku I promised last chapter is up, too._

_For anyone who cares, I've included the links for Yule Ball outfits._

_Millicent's dress (think of it in green): http : / / www (dot) Pearsonsrenaissanceshoppe (dot) Com / countess-dress (dot) html_

_Desdemona's dress (purple with bronze belt and trim, minus the cord): http:/ www. pearsonsrenaissanceshoppe._

_Pansy's dress (lighter shade, with long sleeves and pale grey trim): http : / / www (dot) galindaswardrobe (dot) com / pictures / Galinda / 101 (dot) jpg_

_Roisin's dress (blue and silver, with silver belt): http : / / www (dot) pearsonsrenaissanceshoppe (dot) com/emerald-dream-dress (dot) html_

_Hogwarts Boys (ankle-length and whatever shade, ignore the sword): http : / / armstreet (dot) com / store / clothes / medieval - tunicwool - overcoat - garb - coat - costume_

_Durmstrang robes._

_(Boys): http : / / armstreet(dot)com / store / clothes / russian - xvic - wool - coat - garb – costume_

_(Girls): http : / / armstreet (dot) com / store / clothes / sarmatian - tsarina - fantasy - medieval - style – dress_

_Beauxbatons robes_

_(Boys): http : / / armstreet (dot) com / store / clothes / medieval - tunicflax - overcoat - garb - coat - costume_

_(Girls): http : / / www (dot) pearsonsrenaissanceshoppe (dot) com / guinevere - gown (dot) html_

_Thanks, Nat _


	56. Preparations and Consequences

_Disclaimer: I don't own it. *Sigh*. We've gone over this before._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX**

The late-morning of Boxing Day was greeted by not a few screams, some from people suffering the aftereffects of post-Ball parties, but mostly from those who had realized just how late they had slept in, and were therefore missing out on valuable study time to catch up on much-neglected holiday homework.

Roisin, who had been one of the few to make an effort to keep up on her studies, was free to sit back, smirk, and bask in the dirty looks of her less-vigilant Housemates.

* * *

When school resumed, after a second week that paled quite a bit in comparison to the first, the snow was even thicker on the ground, and Professor Sprout must have been pleased that no-one could spend the lesson staring out of the greenhouse windows, as they were too thick with condensation to see anything.

No one was looking forward to dealing with the Skrewts when it was cold enough to freeze their fingers off and drastically slow their reaction time, and Roisin wasn't sure whether or not to be pleased when they arrived at Care of Magical Creatures and were met by an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a prominent chin. It reduced the chance of them dealing with the Blast-Ended Skrewts, but you had to wonder what could possibly keep Hagrid away. The new professor was also probably not as lax with timing as Hagrid. "Hurry up; the bell rang five minutes ago."

The Gryffindors were already there. "Sorry, Professor, the grounds took a while to navigate."

Roisin re-cast the warming charm on her gloves and hat, absently registering Harry and Ron asking where Hagrid was. It was unkind of her, but as long as she didn't have to deal with the Skrewts while she was too cold and rugged up to run or dive out of the way, Roisin didn't mind if their large teacher was off sick for a few days.

The new witch, Professor Grubbly-Plank, led them past the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering and toward a tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where a magnificent unicorn was tethered. Roisin couldn't hold back a delighted 'oooh', and kicked Draco in the shins when he snickered.

"Oh, it's so beautiful!" Lavender Brown whispered to Parvati. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really difficult to catch!"

Roisin, a little more up-to-date with popular unicorn lore, took a turn at biting back a snicker. She agreed with Lavender, though. The unicorn was so brightly white that the snow around it looked grey. It was pawing the ground nervously, and throwing back its horned head.

"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank. "They prefer a woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care. Come on, easy does it…"

Roisin did so with a lot more enthusiasm than she usually showed in this particular class, ignoring the brewing storm behind her. It wouldn't be a Slytherin-Gryffindor class without a confrontation between Harry and Draco, and if it was important, she would find out later, probably from listening to Draco complain about someone (trying to) punch him in the face. There was probably something wrong with the fact that Roisin could predict it so easily.

There were mixed feelings at the end of the lesson. "I hope she stays, that woman," was Parvati's opinion. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures was supposed to be like… creatures like unicorns, not monsters."

"What about Hagrid?" Harry sounded indignant and a bit worried about the normal professor's absence.

"Well," Parvati seemed to be looking for a tactful way to put it. "Hagrid is nice, certainly, but wasn't it nice to spend a lesson without fighting the Skrewts for our lives?"

There wasn't really any good way for Harry to respond to that, especially when Hermione seconded the opinion. "That was a really good lesson, I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about unicorns – "

"Look at this!" Harry brandished the Daily Prophet at her. Roisin sighed and headed for the Slytherin Common Room. There were always a few copies of the Prophet lying around, and she could find the source of the problem without actually being forced to get involved.

* * *

It was an impressive piece of journalism, with just the right combination of fact and implication that one would expect from Rita Skeeter, even if Roisin was unhappy about the almost certain results.

_DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff decisions, _**writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent**. _In September of this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's habit of attacking anyone who makes a sudden move in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of Gamekeeper ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrifying creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be 'very frightening'._

"_It's supposed to be a 'Care of Magical Creatures' lesson, not a 'Practical Exercise in Staying Alive Under Hazardous Conditions' lesson!" complains Roisin O'Conner, a fourth-year student. "Third-Years are not supposed to face off against something rated XXXX in a first lesson, and there's a reason there is no Third-Year Care of Magical Creatures class this year!"_

Roisin had said that, when the Slytherin girls were heading back into the school after the lesson spent hiding from the Skrewts in Hagrid's Cabin. Roisin hadn't noticed Rita Skeeter nearby, but she hadn't really been paying attention to her surroundings, and Harry had mentioned that Rita had shown up to the lesson, trying to get an interview with Hagrid. Harry wasn't going to like this.

"_I was attacked by a Hippogryff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite of a flobberworm", says Draco Malfoy, another fourth-year. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

Roisin would have to talk to Draco about that. Flobberworms didn't even have teeth, and he should know better than to try and speak for her by now.

_Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a _Daily Prophet _reporter, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts', highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creatures is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself above such petty restrictions._

"_I was just having some fun." He says, before hastily changing the subject._

Roisin resisted the urge to groan and cover her eyes. You never confirmed anything when talking to reporters! You especially didn't use phrases like 'it was just a joke/accident' or 'I was just having fun'! Harry **really** wasn't going to like this. On the other hand, maybe that meant they would never have to work with the Skrewts again! A girl could dream.

_As if this were not enough, the _Daily Prophet_ has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not – as he has always pretended – a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

_Bloodthirsty and Brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring among themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle-killings of his reign of terror._

_While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side – _

An interesting implication; Roisin wondered who in the MLE had managed to annoy Skeeter recently.

– _Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics in Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought about You-Know-Who's fall from power – thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding._

Ouch. Hagrid must have said something to upset her, if she was writing hints about nefarious motives behind Hagrid's friendship with Harry. Harry was really, really not going to like that.

_Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

Well, that certainly explained the general bad mood among the Gryffindors, who actually liked Hagrid. This was **not** going to be pretty.

* * *

Roisin had instantly tracked down Harry and explained, and taken great care to stay as far away from Rita Skeeter as possible during that Hogsmeade Weekend, even going so far as to enlist Desdemona, whose chatter about everything already known and nothing important made it impossible for anyone to get a word in, even someone as tenacious as Rita. When Desdemona had to meet Theo for their date, Luna stepped into the breach, and the quirky blonde was enough to make any reporter throw up their hands and find someone else to bother.

Even so, it wasn't until she came across the Trio in the library and pointed out that if their frantic expressions were any indication, they couldn't afford to turn down an extra set of eyes, even if they were angry with her.

The Second Task was clearly designed to test more than bravery and skill. Roisin wondered how long it had taken the Champions to work out the riddle, much less how they were all planning to get through the Task.

'_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground._

_And while you're searching, ponder this,_

_We've taken what you'll surely miss._

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took._

_But past an hour – the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.'_

Well, that was certainly ominous and morbid. The rhyme probably meant that the Second Task would involve something aquatic, to retrieve something or someone, but the Trio had already figured that part out easily. Roisin supposed that the hard bit would have been figuring out what the screeching was in the first place, and reasoning the idea of opening the egg underwater.

The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons Champions couldn't have had it easy, either. The other eleven Beauxbatons students had been wearing the expressions of those who were suffering noise-induced headaches for several weeksafter the First Task, and Yelena had actually requested to sleep in the Slytherin Common Room just to get away from the noise, before Piotr had accidentally-on-purpose knocked it into the lake, and Krum had been forced to dive in after it.

Professor McGonagall had nearly agreed to Yelena's request, having endured something similar with Harry and his egg, (the screeching had penetrated thewalls between the Gryffindor Common Room and the rest of the castle, and probably into the chambers traditionally used by the Gryffindor Head of House. The Professor had probably not intended for Roisin to hear her muttering about seeing Professor Snape's face, but luckily it had been unnecessary.

* * *

Roisin was lightly dozing, having spent the entire day helping the Gryffindor Trio go through books, looking for ways to breathe underwater. She still maintained that diving into the Black Lake in February was near suicide, and Karkaroff had probably planned it in the hopes of the other Champions getting Hypothermia, but there was no use whining about it.

Roisin jerked up when Ron dropped yet another pile of books on the table. "I'm awake! What's going on?"

Harry took time out of looking panicked to look faintly amused. "Still researching. You'd better head back to your dorm, it's nearly curfew."

Roisin stood up, stifling a yawn. "Good point. You should do the same; you don't want Professor Snape to have an excuse to give you detention."

With the mood Professor Snape was in lately, especially after an encounter with Headmaster Karkaroff, who was on the verge of being labeled a stalker, even the Slytherins were not exempt from his ire. Roisin made herself scarce.

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_A/N: The chapter is shorter than I would have liked, and took longer to get up, but it was a good stopping point. Meanwhile, I have an attempt at taking down the 'Marriage Law' cliché, and a few other genres for people to look at while waiting._

_Thanks, Nat._


	57. The Second Task

_Disclaimer: Not mine, making no money, blah, blah, blat._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN**

Professor Grubbly-Plank left, and Hagrid was back, a week after the article. Most were unsure of how to take this, but as Hagrid chose to continue the lessons on unicorns, and rarely assigned homework, most were coaxed into viewing it as a good thing. If it had been back to the Skrewts, Roisin would have thought otherwise, but as there were only two Skrewts left, that scenario seemed unlikely.

Today, he had brought in two unicorn foals, and even Pansy had trouble attempting to hide how much she liked them. Unlike the adult unicorns, they were pure gold, and had no horns. "Easier to spot than the adults," Hagrid told them. "They turn silver when they're about two years old, and grow horns at around four. Don't go pure white until about seven. They're a bit more trusting as babies too, don't mind boys so much. Come on; move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want… give 'em a few of these sugar lumps."

Overhearing a not-quite-plot to make loud comparisons between Hagrid and Professor Grubbly-Plank in hopes that these kinds of lessons would continue, Roisin rolled her eyes, grabbed Draco by the arm, and dragged him off toward the unicorns. Coming up with something as obvious as that, it would serve him right if the unicorns charged him.

* * *

Roisin was feeling nervous on behalf of the Champions, certainly, but also wondering how the Second Task would shape up (at least for the spectators) in terms of excitement.

The entire school couldn't follow the Champions into the lake, but surely there had to be some kind of spell or charm to let people see what was going on under the lake, like they used in remote visual security in the Ministry of Magic building. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was important, of course, but if all they were going to do was sit and stare at the lake for an hour, then Roisin was happy to spend the first forty minutes watching from the comfort of her Dorm Window, and then come out in time to watch the Champions return and the announcement of placing and points.

Really, if they were going to make you stand outside in the middle of January, the least they could do was show or provide commentary on what was happening with the Champions. A few warming charms wouldn't be amiss, either. How was a girl supposed to clap when she was stiff and numb with cold?

Such thoughts were put on hold, however, as she was a bit preoccupied helping Harry, Hermione and Ron search for a spell that would let Harry spend an hour underwater without drowning.

Unfortunately, searching the Hogwarts library was not as easy as it sounded, unless you had a solid idea of what you were looking for. If they knew the name of such a spell, or a certain book that would have such a spell, they would have been fine. Since they only had the desire to _find_ such a method, but not so much as a hint whether they were looking for charm, potion or transfiguration, the search had turned up every book that contained the words 'water', 'breathe' or 'underwater'.

Roisin was reminded of her father when a potential client by the name of John Smith had called to place a very large order and left a message, but failed to provide any contact details. It had been a '_Bring You Children To Work'_ day, so Roisin and Dudley had been treated to the sight of the secretary being yelled at for a good quarter-hour, then been enlisted by said secretary (who had bribed her with chocolate) to help search through the phone book for the right person. If nothing else, it had kept Roisin occupied for the rest of the day.

Roisin was startled out of her current book when Hermione slammed hers closed, seeming to have taken the library's lack of useful information as a personal insult. "Oh, this is no use! Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"There's a spell for that?" Desdemona had popped up out of nowhere, closely followed by the Weasley Twins.

Roisin fixed her best friend with a glare, even knowing that it wouldn't do much good. "Don't you even think about it. What are you doing here in the first place, Desdemona? I thought you and Theo were sneaking off somewhere tonight."

Desdemona pouted. "We were, but Professor Snape caught us on the way out and gave us the choice between finding you first or detention. He wants to talk to you about something, Rosie."

That didn't sound promising, but Professor Snape was not one to keep waiting. "Don't call me Rosie! Could you take my bag back to the dorm with you? Madam Pomfrey closes up soon, and I don't want my things locked in the library until Monday."

Desdemona giggled, but complied. Luckily, the library was not far from the Dungeons, and it didn't take long for Roisin to reach Professor Snape's office. She knocked on the door, entering when prompted. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Professor Snape looked up from marking essays, most of which were covered with red ink. Roisin thought that she spotted Seamus's handwriting, and more red ink than Aunt Nessa was likely to be happy with. "Yes. It appears that the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament calls for some extra participants, and the Headmaster has suggested you as one of them. I am to ask if you wish to aid your cousin in this, as you have been aiding him in research."

Roisin thought it sounded interesting, but there was no way she was accepting it at face value, especially after watching the First Task. "Will I be in danger or suffer any ill effects from helping, sir?"

Professor Snape looked almost pleased. "Finally, someone who actually asks a sensible question before answering. As the Second Task takes place outside in early February, and you will be out there before the other students and Champions, you may suffer a bit from exposure, but nothing permanent. I am not, of course, permitted to tell you of the exact nature of the Task."

Meaning that the other Champions would have someone participating, as well. Roisin gave it some thought. On the one hand, it was likely to be dangerous no matter what, but if it involved any real risk, Professor Snape would have told the Headmaster to find someone else, before putting one of his students in direct danger. Had that been the case, he probably would have told the judges to use a Gryffindor, who would be less likely to object to rushing into unknown trouble. "I agree to participate, sir."

She had been too busy thinking to notice that her Head of House had drawn his wand, and had no chance to dodge when he muttered something under his breath and threw a spell at her.

* * *

The first thing Roisin noticed was that she was drenched, and freezing her tail off. The second thing was that whoever thought ice-cold water in February was a good prank was going to pay for this. The third was that she was in the middle of the lake, along with Harry and a young blonde girl, surrounded by mer-folk. "Do I want to know what happened to get me here?"

Harry let out a breath. "I'll fill you in later. Help me with her; I don't think she can swim very well."

Given that the girl looked like a mini-Fleur, and was therefore probably part-Veela herself, Roisin wouldn't be surprised. Briefly ducking under the water again, Roisin got under the girl and forced her frozen limbs into motion. "Don't panic, kid, we'll be back on solid ground soon."

On the bank, Roisin could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric and Cho, all wrapped in very thick blankets, which looked very inviting. Blaise was running from the spectator stands, looking very white, and Madam Maxime was trying to restrain a hysterical Fleur Delacour, who was fighting tooth and nail to return to the water. "Gabrielle! _Gabrielle!_ Is she alive? Is she hurt?"

The Beauxbatons Champion's complete loss of composure due to concern for her sister made Roisin think that perhaps she had misjudged her, but Roisin didn't get the chance to say anything, because Blaise had splashed out to meet them and was practically carrying her over to Madam Pomfrey. Knowing that whatever happened must have had him worried, and teeth chattering too hard to protest anyway, Roisin let him fuss as Madam Pomfrey wrapped her in a fluffy blanket that covered her from neck to toe and forced a potion down her throat, steam gushing from her ears.

Harry received the same treatment before Hermione practically jumped on him, while Dumbledore was kneeling at the water's edge, talking to one of the Mer-folk. Finally, he straightened. "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The other Slytherins had, by now, also fought their way over and were crowding around. A quick glance around showed half of Hufflepuff congregated around Cedric. Roisin was attempting to fend off questions when Ludo Bagman's magnified voice boomed out, making everyone jump. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision! Mer-Chieftainess Murcus has told us what happened in the lake, and we have decided to award points out of fifty to the champions, as follows…

Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and was unable to retrieve her hostage. We have therefore decided to award her twenty-five points."

Roisin saw Fleur shake her head and clutch her sister tighter, though the roar of the crowd made it impossible to hear exactly what she was saying.

"Mr Cedric Diggory also used the Bubble-Head charm, and was the first to return, although her re-surfaced one minute outside of the time limit."

Cho gave Cedric a glowering look, but Roisin was impressed. Even an Olympic Swimmer would take at least fifteen minutes to swim the distance from shore to the bottom of the lake, even without fighting whatever nasties lurked in the icy depths, so she had no idea what the other girl was complaining about.

"Mr Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of transfiguration, which was nonetheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Roisin would have to get the details of that later, and from Pansy's slight shudder, it must have been interesting.

"Mr Potter returned last and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, we are informed that he was the first to reach the village, and that his delay was due to his desire to see all of the hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Typical Harry. Roisin shook her head slightly and smiled as Bagman aimed a nasty look at Karkaroff. "_Most_ of the judges believe that this shows moral fiber, and merits full marks… however, Mr Potter's score if forty-five points."

Another resounding cheer, and Ron, who had also reached the Champions, shouting something to Harry, but, like Fleur, was lost in the noise. Roisin would have stayed around to talk, but was whisked away by her Housemates, who, along with the other Hogwarts Students present, were being ordered by Madam Pomfrey to take their Champion or Hostage somewhere dry and get them warmed up.

* * *

The Slytherins filled Roisin in on the way back to the Common Room. Apparently, there had been some kind of viewing spell, but it had stopped at the edge of the Mer-people's village, as they had considered it an invasion of privacy, so that had kept people in suspense. Cedric and Fleur had looked oddly distorted, as if they had upturned fishbowls on their heads while swimming, and Krum's "Incomplete Transfiguration" had been to give himself the head of a Great White Shark. It had taken a while to complete, and probably made it harder to free Hermione, explaining why Cedric made it back first, but it also meant that very few things were willing to attack or impede him.

Back in the Dungeons, they settled in very quickly, sending the House-Elves running back and forth with requests for hot drinks, more blankets (it was one of those days where you just wanted to snuggle up warmly), and turning up the heat.

Exercising seniority and kicking a few Second-Years out of the best seats by the fire, the Fourth-Years settled in. "What did all of you think of the Second Task, and how are the points doing? Oh, and get me more sugar, one of you, my tea isn't sweet enough."

Roisin, milking the fact that she had spent who knew how long at the bottom of the lake, ignored Draco's demand and pulled a small notebook out of her pocket. "I was asleep at the bottom of the lake for most of it, remember? As for the sugar, tell it to a House-Elf. Let's see, Harry and Cedric are tied at eighty-five points, Krum is Third at eighty, and Fleur is coming last at seventy-four. She was at a disadvantage from the start with this task, though, given her powers and heritage, so we should cut her a little slack."

Vince and Greg both blinked in confusion, not a foreign look for either. "How are Veela powers a disadvantage? I'd be her disadvantage any time she wanted me to, if she needed one."

The last was probably meant to sound Sauvé, but failed miserably. Millicent thumped them both, "Don't be crude, and do some background reading for Care of Magical Creatures. Veela are beings of air and fire. Fire and water do not mix. I thought the reactions of the hostages were the most interesting, myself."

Desdemona grinned suddenly, partially emerging from her huddled position under an Afghan. "Do you mean Delacour's baby sister staring at Potter like he is some kind of god, or Granger being the thing that Krum will miss most? That's a real teasing opportunity, there."

Pansy giggled, "Both, and Potter has some explaining to do about you being his Hostage, rather than Patil, but what did you think of Chang? That one is _so_ not lasting past this summer."

Blaise looked torn between confusion and curiosity, and an intense desire to escape the sudden turn that this conversation had taken. "Why? I mean, he dove into a lake in the middle of January, got past who knows what, and pulled her out, and she is supposedly 'what he'd surely miss'. How does that mean that they won't last?"

Theo nodded in cautious agreement. "Please enlighten the rest of us, because I think that shows a pretty big gesture on Diggory's part."

Draco whacked him upside the head, hissing in what was probably meant to be an undertone. "Don't start giving them ideas, Nott! I refuse to re-enact that scenario just to prove that I adore Pansy!"

Pansy was nice enough to ignore that as Desdemona sighed and explained. "Did you see the look Chang gave him when she found out that he returned with her one minute after the time?"

Blaise shrugged. "Maybe she was upset that she was in the lake to begin with?"

Roisin sighed, reminding herself that boys were clueless at times and it wasn't really Blaise's fault that he didn't realize that Chang was forming expectations that no one would be able to maintain, and no self-respecting boy would put up with that forever. Meanwhile, Millicent had taken it upon herself to explain. "The people organizing the Tournament would need written or verbal consent after informing the non-contestant, in order to bring them into a Task."

A few of the Second Years, doing a very poor job of pretending not to eavesdrop, still looked confused, so Roisin elaborated. "I doubt that any of the Hostages would be told exactly what they needed to do, because I only got the general 'you-are-being-asked-to-help', just be assured that they would be in no danger, but if Chang didn't want to participate, all that she had to do was say so."

Draco took advantage of the silence to chime in again. "What I don't understand is why Diggory and Krum had to save their Yule Ball dates, but Potter and the Veela Chick saved family members. I mean, Potter knew you longer than Patil, so that makes sense, and Davis is just a brainless idiot, Ravenclaw or not, but why not one of the Durmstrang Students? Or one of Diggory's Hufflepuff friends? What's that common crude phrase I heard Thomas and Finnegan going on about; bros over…"

He stopped in the nick of time, noticing the glares aimed at him from the female population, many of whom were fingering their wands. Desdemona, perhaps the only person who could answer without saying something rude or (in the boys' case) getting themselves into trouble, enlightened him. "Finish that sentence and I'll castrate you. As for the rest, Professor Sprout probably wanted to be fair, and Diggory is popular, so I'll bet she didn't want to cause a rift by choosing one friend over a multitude of others."

Her temper under control, Roisin took up the explanation. "As for Krum, he and Hermione actually got to talking before and after the Yule Ball, so that was probably the best they could do. The other Durmstrang Students are competition right now, not friends, and Karkaroff probably didn't want to risk them making things difficult for Krum out of spite."

She settled back, taking another sip of hot chocolate. "Now, since I was asleep the entire time, can someone tell me what actually happened?"

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_A/N: Right, another chapter up. Sorry it took so long, but Accounting Studies is taking up most of my time. I hope you liked my explanation of why Fleur and Harry rescued their sister and best friend, respectively, while Cedric and Krum only had their Yule dates (Krum had known Hermione for maybe two months, in Canon. That is hardly enough time to be the thing he would miss most, over people he had known for seven years) to save._

_As always, Constructive Criticism (that's constructive, not Flames) is very welcome, no matter how harsh. In fact, please be harsh, because I'm not sure if making Roisin a hostage was straying into Mary-Sue Territory._


	58. The Month of March

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and no money is being made off of this fan fiction. Which is a pity, as I am severely broke right now._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT**

The Second Task was over, and the Third Task would not take place until June, but the Second Task still seemed to be having long-term effects.

Parvati had been sort of enjoyed the attention that came with being associated with Harry Potter, but also quietly in a state of mild shock over the Second Task, and feeling conflicted over the whole thing. She understood that Harry had known Roisin the longest, and was slightly relieved, because "What he would miss most" implied a level of relationship that she wasn't quite ready for, but Cedric and Viktor's hostages had been their Yule Ball dates, so it was a bit of a blow to the ego.

When you took into account that Harry was spending almost all of his free time preparing for the Third Task (which Roisin could attest to, having been helping whenever she could), and Parvati was busy with preparing for the end of year Exams, which was even worse than usual, as the Hogwarts professors seemed determined to show up the other schools in academics, as well as in the Tournament, the couple was drifting slowly but steadily apart.

Roisin was somewhat disappointed, but not totally surprised, at the amiable break-up in mid-March, even if it wasn't really her business. At least neither party were holding her responsible for the split, unlike Yelena, who had spent almost a week hiding out in Roisin's dorm after an argument with one of her schoolmates, who she had introduced to George Weasley. Roisin didn't see how the post-break up sulk, after Anna had discovered that the redhead was more interested in pranks than dates, was in any way Yelena's fault, but there you were.

Cho was no longer glaring at Cedric for returning outside the time limit, apparently satisfied with sharing the limelight. Everyone wanted to know what happened under the lake, though it seemed to change with every re-telling. By the end of the week, Cho was describing a fantastic race against time where Cedric, desperate for the safety of his love, battled against every water-based monster short of Nessie (who was of course only absent because she didn't want to leave her own Loch to chase students, no matter how good looking), and a triumphant return.

Roisin recalled somewhat differently. To her memory, the hostages had been taken to Dumbledore's office, reassured that they would be safe and would awake after it was all over, and then put in an enchanted sleep. Blaise had swept Roisin into a very dramatic kiss, apologised for his tardiness, as only a kiss of True Love was supposed to awaken such a beauty from an enchanted sleep, and he hoped that she would be satisfied from waking her from a trauma induced daze. Draco had alternated between looking worried at Pansy's dreamy gaze and glaring at Blaise as he proclaimed that clearly Roisin had been blessed by the Fair Folk in the cradle, for no other woman could possibly match her for beauty, charm etc.

Fleur, standing nearby with several other foreign students and still not letting go of her sister, had looked amused as several spotlight-attracted admirers had sulked off. Roisin had laughed and kissed her boyfriend.

Hermione scoffed at Cho's tale, in a bit of a bad mood from all the people teasing her about being the thing Viktor Krum would miss the most. Having turned down Roisin's suggestion of hexing the idiots until the rest got the picture, she was spending most of her time either on the Durmstrang Ship, where you needed an invitation to get in, or in the Library, where no one was willing to attract the ire of Madam Pince.

Everyone had stopped trying to ask Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, for her version of events. This was partly because Gabrielle spoke very little English, and even those who spoke perfect French had a hard time keeping up when the little girl became excited. Largely, however, it was because no one wanted an angry part-Veela after them, and Fleur was very protective of her much beloved little sister.

* * *

The weather dried out as they entered March, though the freezing wind did not abate, and the post was frequently delayed by Post Owls being blown off course. A letter from Fionna had arrived one morning, followed by a second letter at lunch (delivered by an owl who had not been blown away), containing a worried note asking why she had yet to write back after a week.

Millicent and Roisin's shared party was quieter this year, but still well celebrated. In deference to the weather, the gifts were simple but practical; a set of day robes (from the other girls) and a thick winter cloak (from the boys) both with the best warming charms that could be conveniently afforded. Given the way everyone had shivered through Imbolc only a month earlier, the clothing was very much appreciated.

A brown owl with half of its feathers sticking up the wrong way arrived at breakfast one gusty Friday, when Roisin had joined the Trio for breakfast. Resisting the urge to mention how the state of the owl's feathers closely resembled the state of Harry's hair, Roisin leaned to the side to read over Harry's shoulder.

_Private Parlour in the Three Broomsticks on Saturday._

Harry frowned. "That doesn't sound good; normally Sirius's letters are a lot longer than that."

Roisin exchanged glances with Hermione, and then shrugged. "He's probably just in a rush, or wants to talk to something that's better said face-to-face."

Ron attempted to lighten the mood, but it fell rather flat. "Besides, it's not like Hogsmeade is crawling with Dementors anymore."

Again, Roisin and Hermione exchanged an eye-roll behind the boys' back, making their way to Arithmancy.

The Ancient Runes and Arithmancy textbooks were not something you wanted to carry around for long periods, so Roisin skipped lunch in favour of running back to the Common Room to drop off those books, give her brain a short rest, and pick up her potions kit. Sitting down near the fireplace, she spotted someone's copy of Witch Weekly, raising an eyebrow at the headline.

_HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE_

_A boy like no other, perhaps – yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence,_ writes Rita Skeeter. _Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-Born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered by personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgaria Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been openly toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him over the Summer Holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl'._

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms which have captured these unfortunate boys' interest. _

"_Harry and Hermione?" laughs Roisin O'Conner, a startlingly lovely classmate of Miss Granger's, "We'd see the Cannons win the World Cup before we saw those two date, at least without the influence of a potion!"_

"_She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a love potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."_

_Love potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate._

Putting the magazine back down, Roisin had to wonder. "You know, I really do need to find out how Skeeter gets these quotes, when I know I've never spoken to her about any of this."

She had said that, when Draco had finally been forcefully presented (by an annoyed Seventh-Year who didn't care who had been studying for NEWTs and didn't care who his father was) with the fact that his 'threats' were viewed much like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and if his admittedly pathetic taunts saw anyone hurt, it usually wasn't the intended victim. As such, he had been practising sly insinuations about "Potter and his Mudblood" in the Common Room.

Roisin had been too busy with her Arithmancy homework to really listen, and had thought that it was another bout of the rumours that inevitably spring up whenever a post-puberty boy and girl regularly spend time together. Roisin noticed that Rita Skeeter's "quote" had left out the rest of the comment, which had been to inform Draco that "Those two are as brother-sister as you get without actually being related! Now shut up and do your posturing somewhere else, because the rest of us have Homework to finish."

Draco had sulked off and Roisin had thought that was the end of it, but apparently not.

Well, Roisin could worry about where Rita was getting these sources later, as right now, she had Potions.

* * *

Pansy had her own copy of Witch Weekly when Roisin reached the Potions classroom, accompanied by Desdemona, who had forgotten her Potions Text and nearly knocked Roisin over as she came dashing through the hidden entrance. Roisin was about to start on a tirade about reporters who stretched the truth thinner than the paper it was printed on, and how much of an idiot Pansy was to believe the article, when the Gryffindor Trio arrived.

Pansy laughed again and threw the magazine at Hermione. "You might find something to interest you in there, Granger."

Roisin rolled her eyes and was about to tell Pansy to grow up, but Professor Snape opened the door and ushered them inside before she could say anything. Going to her usual station, Roisin ignored Pansy's giggling in favour of copying down the instructions for today's potion, while Blaise collected the ingredients.

Passing two jabberknoll feathers to Blaise, and starting to grind seven dried scarab beetles, Roisin got started on the Wit-Sharpening Potion, only to be interrupted by a silkily dangerous voice. "Fascinating as your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger, I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Roisin glanced over and winced in sympathy when Professor Snape caught sight of the magazine that Pansy had thrown at Hermione, opened to The Article. "Ah… reading magazines under the table as well? A further ten points from Gryffindor… oh, but of course… Potter has to keep up with his press clippings."

This meant that Professor Snape was going to make an example out of them by reading The Article out loud. Resigning herself to the inevitable, Roisin tried to ignore the spectacle, listening with half an ear as she began to chop her daisy roots. As predicted, Professor Snape started reading, pausing at the end of every sentence for the Slytherins to snicker and the Gryffindors to glare.

When the Potions Master finally reached the end, Roisin decided to try and diffuse the hostility before someone got blown up. "If Skeeter is so observant, how did she miss the bit where Harry and Hermione have never been a couple, and he was with Parvati for the past two and a half months?"

Parvati also decided to help out. "Ms Skeeter never lets the Truth get in the way of a good story. Anyone with a grain of sense takes anything she writes with a pinch of salt."

The Trio sent both girls a grateful look, but Professor Snape ignored her as he rolled up the magazine. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions, rather than your tangled love-lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter – that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Sulkily, the three Gryffindors did as they were told, and class settled back into its usual routine. It was disrupted a final time shortly before the bell, when Roisin (who hadn't stopped half way through) was just bottling her potion, and the others were adding the last few ingredients, by Professor Karkaroff, but since Professor Snape snarled at him to shut up and wait until after the lesson, Roisin put it out of mind.

* * *

Roisin and the other Slytherins left for Hogsmeade at around eleven on Saturday, so they could spend some time together before Roisin met up with Sirius and the Trio. They split up when the girls wanted to visit Gladrags, and the boys escaped to Honeydukes before they could be suckered in to being asked to give opinions.

Pansy was perfectly happy to browse, coo over, and try on the latest fashions, while Millicent was perfectly happy to stand back and be amused as Pansy ran the Sales Witches ragged. Desdemona alternated between the two, and Roisin used the opportunity to slip over to the children's section and buy a little dress for Winky, whose clothes were not faring too well, planning a little speech about how no respectable family would want to bond with a House Elf who didn't keep herself presentable (probably the only argument that would get through) and how she hoped Winky would accept it as a sort of future-contract until Roisin left Hogwarts.

Roisin genuinely liked Winky, and hopefully putting a bit of pride in her appearance (she probably wouldn't reject it as a gift from Roisin, who Winky had decided was a nice student-mistress, and just a bit odd) would make the House Elf start to feel a bit better about herself. Roisin had heard stories about what happened to House Elves who spent too long separated from a family (She was starting to suspect that Dobby had formed an unacknowledged semi-bond with Harry, when he saved Harry from Mr Malfoy, which might be why Dobby was dealing with freedom so well) and didn't want Winky to suffer that fate.

Roisin couldn't perform or accept such a bond until she was of age, but maybe the promise would do to tide Winky over for another two years.

The four Slytherins left the store just as Harry, Hermione and Ron entered, making a bee-line for the socks. Having heard from Winky where Harry had managed to get the Gillyweed he used in the Second task, Roisin presumed that it was a thank-you for Dobby, as no one would wear that kind of sock pattern willingly.

They wandered into Honeydukes, where they managed to get the last of the chocolate (The good thing about being a girl was that there were times when chocolate really _could_ solve everything. The bad part was the abundance of girls, with exams, Tasks and other end-of-year stress, were also keen on the confectionary panacea) and collected the boys, before wandering toward the Shrieking Shack, which was on the other side of the village… and had several convenient out-of-sight places for two students to 'fall behind' in.

Gods knew that with Exams and the Third Task coming up, Hogsmeade Weekends were the only chance _anyone_ had to sneak in a bit of couple time.

At half past one, they returned to the village and parted ways. Roisin said goodbye and turned toward the Three Broomsticks, where she joined Sirius, Harry, Ron and Hermione in a private parlour. Madam Rosmerta brought in a Shepard's Pie and two pitchers of Butterbeer, and then left them alone.

Four years of near-constant exposure to Desdemona left Roisin with a wide range of conversation-starters and –stoppers, and since no one else seemed about to break the awkward silence, she did. "Not that it isn't always good to see you, Sirius, but your note sounded a bit tense. Is something wrong?"

Sirius let out one of his barking laughs. "More so than usual, you mean?" He turned serious, looking at Harry, "Your last letter… well, let's just say that things are getting fishier. I've been keeping track of the _Prophet_, and looking between the scandals, Rita Skeeter, and stories that try to make the Ministry look competent" (Roisin stifled a snicker) "I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

Sirius pulled out two newspaper clippings and unfolded them. They did have some very worrying headlines. _'Mysterious Illness of Bartemius Crouch!' _and_ 'Ministry Witch Still Missing – Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved!'_ were not the sort of announcements you wanted to read first thing in the morning, which was probably why they had been secreted on page 19.

Hermione leaned over Roisin's shoulder for a closer look as phrases seemed to jump out at them. _"hasn't been seen for eight months, no form of contact"… "suspicious absence"… "growing concern about international travel"._ Handing that article to Harry to swap with the one about Crouch, Roisin continued to skim. _"…hasn't been seen in public since November"… "house appears deserted"… St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies decline comment"… "Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness"…_

Well, with Rita Skeeter's recent activity, Roisin wasn't surprised. Rita would make it sound like Crouch was at Death's Door, and no one, much less the Ministry of Magic, would want to deal with a multitude of owls from the more gullible, asking if Crouch was all right, who would be his successor, and/or if the illness was catching. The Ministry was ineffective enough as it was, and would be worse if workers stopped showing up for fear of becoming deathly ill.

Harry seemed to agree. "They make it sound like he's dying. But he can't be that ill if he managed to make it up here… Mind you, he did look a bit ill, last time I saw him up close. The night my name came out of the Goblet."

Ron shrugged. "My brother is Crouch's personal assistant," he informed Sirius. "He says that Crouch is just suffering from overwork."

What with the Triwizard Tournament (a headache-inducing amount of work for anyone) and the way it had gone pear-shaped from the start, probably resulting in all kinds of paperwork for last-second and post-due-date adjustments, Percy's statement was very Occam's Razor. Even so, if something suspicious involved Harry in any way, shape or form, things were almost never as simple as they might seem. Roisin couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than simply being over-stressed.

Hermione didn't share Roisin's concern. "Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" Hermione finished reading and passed the papers back to Sirius. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now – bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

Roisin couldn't help but roll her eyes as Ron shot Hermione a dark look. "Hermione's obsessed with House Elves."

Sirius, however, looked interested. "Crouch sacked his House Elf?"

Roisin nodded. "Yes, she's at Hogwarts now. She's a sweet little thing, but more than a bit depressed. I'm working on that, though."

Hermione sent Roisin a nasty look, which Harry attempted to divert by elaborating with a story about what happened with the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup. Having been celebrating with the Irish, and then hiding with her cousins, and being whisked back to the O'Conner Keep at first light the next day, Roisin had missed whatever had happened with Harry, for which she was profoundly grateful, and the chance to ask him about it later.

All she had managed to gather was the slightly snarky article in the magical version of the _Dublin Daily_, where it was mentioned that former convict and ex-Auror Sirius Black had been seen fighting against the Death Eaters, which had been taken as further proof that the English Ministry were idiots and that if Sirius had been guilty, he wouldn't have been fighting his ex-comrades.

Sirius agreed with Hermione, as far as Crouch's treatment of Winky was concerned. Roisin noticed that he was conspicuously silent on the bit about owning House Elves in the first place.

A number of other interesting things came up, during the conversation, as Sirius clearly did not like Crouch, who had apparently been the one responsible for putting him in prison without a trial, and authorised war-time measures that Roisin considered to be a bit extreme, though perhaps he was attempting to lessen the outcry over his son being a Death Eater by proving that he was dedicated to ridding the Wizarding World of Voldemort's taint, no matter the cost.

Other interesting titbits included the fact that Karkaroff was a Death Eater (which wasn't all that surprising, when you thought about it), and that he had been showing Professor Snape something on his arm. Roisin was less surprised that she probably should have been about that, too, though the Professor was probably a deserter or undercover agent, or Dumbledore wouldn't have let him in the same building as largely-vulnerable students, much less teach them.

Finally, things wound to a close, and Roisin and the Trio had to leave if they didn't want to be shut out of the castle for the night. While it wouldn't be hard to rent a room for the night, Roisin had no desire to deal with the uproar and detentions that would result from being missing until the next morning.

Bidding Sirius goodbye, they set off back up to the castle, mulling over the events and discoveries of the day.

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_A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, but I've been insanely busy with looking for work and with my other stories. However, it is up now, and if you're still reading after the long wait, I'd love to know what you think._

_Also, check out my other Harry Potter fic, The Paths Diverge._

_Thanks, Nat_


	59. House Elves and Hate Mail

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and no money is being made from the posting of this fic._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT**

Roisin finally had a free afternoon, and Harry wasn't willing to risk Professor McGonagall's wrath by skipping Transfiguration to practice for the Third Task, so she went to the kitchens to visit Winky and present her with a new dress. Upon arrival, her good mood vanished.

Winky was lying in a corner, asleep and snoring loudly. She was neatly tucked under a tablecloth, an empty bottle of Butterbeer next to her. Roisin's lips firmed into a tight line, which some of the more foolish students, if they had been present, would have likened to an annoyed Professor McGonagall. She turned to the Head Kitchen Elf, who was watching Winky disapprovingly. "Can you spare Winky for the afternoon? I think she and I need to have a talk."

The elf, whose name Roisin decided she should probably learn at some point, nodded, looking almost relieved. Roisin supposed that some would see Winky's current condition as reflecting badly on the House Elves as a whole, so having Winky out of sight until she sobered up would be a good thing.

Fortunately, nearly everyone was outside enjoying the no-longer-freezing weather, or in the library studying for the upcoming exams (the Professors still hadn't let up on trying to out-score Beauxbatons and Durmstrang) so it was relatively easy for Roisin to carry Winky down to the Slytherin Common Room and into her dorm, where she promptly turned the shower onto cold and placed Winky under the spray, before stepping back and schooling her face into her sternest expression. If it could make Desdemona shut up for five minutes, it would probably get one House Elf's attention.

Winky came back to the land of the aware and conscious with a splutter, looking around and spotting Roisin. "Miss Roisin, miss! Winky is sorry, Winky meant only to – "

If Roisin heard the rest, she was going to lose her resolve. She placed the little dress she had bought on the floor next to the shower, then turned to wait in the dorm, "Enough, Winky. Clean up and then come sit with me; I think we need to have a talk."

Winky was clean, re-clothed and out in record time. Roisin patted the couch beside her. "Let's forgo formality for a bit, shall we?"

Winky looked contrite as she scrambled up onto the furniture. Roisin sighed. "Winky, this can't go on. You're making yourself look bad, the other House Elves are ashamed of working with you, and no one will take on a House Elf who won't take pride in herself and her work. I bought you that dress as a hold-over until I'm old enough to give you a proper outfit and take you into my family, but I'm starting to wonder if that is really the best idea."

Roisin knew that she was being deliberately cruel, but something had to be done, and nothing else seemed to get through to her. Winky looked horrified, and burst into loud tears. "Winky is sorry, Miss Roisin! Winky will do better, she promises! Winky wants to be a proper elf again, but she– "

Roisin interrupted again, wishing she had time to write her grandmother before holding this conversation. "I know you do, Winky, and so do I, but you're sitting by the fireplace, surrounded by Butterbeer and practically insensible! I'm worried about you, but I don't know what's making you like this, or what to do about it! You're my friend, and I hate seeing you like this."

To House Elves, the well-being and happiness of their family came first, before everything. "Winky misses Master Barty and her family. They is not well without Winky to take care of them, but Winky cannot! Miss Grangy is coming in and nosing and saying bad things about Master Barty. The other House Elves call Winky a disgraced elf, because she is, and Dobby is happy being free, and does not understand why Winky is not. Winky does not want to upset Miss Roisin, ma'am, but she does not know what to do, either."

Roisin scooped Winky into a hug. "I know it's upsetting, Winky. Mr Crouch is supposed to drop by Hogwarts on occasion in regards to the Tournament, and maybe you can get yourself assigned to him while he's here," (from what Roisin understood, an elf was assigned to a guest for everything from taking their hat and cloak, to making up a room for them if they chose to stay the night. Mr Crouch hadn't been staying nights, and hadn't even showed u[ once or twice, but maybe checking on his well-being would make Winky feel better) "but you won't even be considered if you keep on like this. I'm of age in a bit under two years, and I'll see if I can find laws and restrictions for until then, but you need to pull yourself together, understand?"

Winky nodded. "Winky will do her best, Miss Roisin, ma'am. Winky will become a Worthy Elf again, she promises."

Roisin wasn't about to delude herself into thinking that it would be anywhere near as easy as that sounded, but she wasn't about to give up on Winky, either.

* * *

Roisin was starting to worry.

She had been researching everything she could find concerning House Elves, making use of the obscure books her grandmother had on the subject, particularly what happened when they were freed, and the answers did not look promising.

Working for, and being bound to, a family was apparently an integral part of a House Elf's very being. Without such a bond, bad things happened to the elf, depending on their position and relation to the family, up to and including madness.

That did fit in with what little Roisin knew of House Elves who had been freed or spent a long time separated from their family. Winky had been a caretaker elf and loved her family. Now that she was freed, she was going into destructive levels of depression. Sirius had been disowned, but not disinherited, so the Black family Elf, Kreature, had spent five years bound but separate during the time between Mrs Black's death and Sirius's release. There was a small possibility of it being a result of being raised to serve a 'Dark' household, but Roisin didn't think that any amount of brainwashing could be totally responsible for Kreature's insanity, which took 'Twisted' to a whole new level of creepy. Dobby, as even Harry would attest, was just plain weird, and Roisin would presume it a kind of 'Functioning Madness', had she any kind of psychology book to look it up.

She wondered if Hermione had even tried to be impartial enough to look these things up before starting on her crusade, and doubted it. Hermione could be a bit of a maniac when she was set on something, but it was clear that she just hadn't thought this through.

Even so, Roisin was more than slightly annoyed with her sometimes-but-definitely-not-at-the-moment-friend.

* * *

Roisin became a lot more sympathetic at breakfast the next day, when the first of the Hate Mail arrived. As much as he hated it, Harry was the Boy Who Lived, and the public always reacted strongly to anything concerning him. Rita's article about Hermione toying with his heart and being a two-timing hussy was sure to end badly for the female third of the Gryffindor Trio.

Sure enough, even the Slytherin table could see Hermione's face growing more and more distressed, leading up to a shriek of pain as she opened a letter and some kind of liquid poured out.

Hermione didn't show up to Ancient Runes that morning, where Terry Boot mentioned that Padma had told him that Parvati had told her that Hermione was in the Hospital Wing being treated to physical exposure to undiluted Bubotuber pus.

Roisin would have thought more on the issue, but Transfiguration (and Professor McGonagall) did not leave room for concentrating on anything but the lesson being taught.

As the Slytherins made their way down to Care of Magical Creatures, where they were sure to encounter the Gryffindors, Pansy started discussing Hermione's misfortune in a loud voice designed to carry. For all that she was magically competent, as much as could be expected of a fifteen-year-old witch, Roisin had yet to master the ability of making people shut up if they didn't want to (usually in fear of their continued good health), and was forced to content herself with either the occasional "Shut up and grow up, Pansy," or simply ignoring her.

It got worse when Pansy spotted Harry and Ron, who were looking worried, and with Hermione conspicuously absent. "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Is that why she was so upset at breakfast?"

Harry clenched his jaw, but said nothing. Roisin sighed, "Knock it off, Pansy, we all know that Rita Skeeter's writing isn't worth the paper it's printed on."

Pansy looked ready to respond in a less-than-polite fashion, but was halted by the group turning the corner to see Hagrid, and therefore stopped arguing. Hagrid had announced the previous lesson that they were finished with Unicorns (Roisin suspected that he was going through withdrawal, and couldn't take another week of non-dangerous/non-aggressive magical creatures) and was waiting with a fresh supply of open crates. Roisin, along with several others, abruptly stopped in their tracks. She looked around, weighing the odds of making it back to the castle un-noticed if it turned out to be another batch of Skrewts.

Luckily, it was not, and the crates turned out to contain a number of fluffy black creatures with oddly flat, spade-like paws and long snouts, which blinked up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

"They're Nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down in mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff… there yeh go, look."

One of the Nifflers had leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy's watch off her wrist. Roisin quickly tucked her necklace beneath her robes as Pansy shrieked and jumped back.

Hagrid sounded a bit too happy to be back on creatures that were willing to bite or attack the students. "Useful little treasure detectors. Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed to a large patch of freshly-turned earth that Roisin had somehow missed. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize for whoever picks the Niffler who digs up the most. Just take off all yer valuables, an' choose a Niffler, an' get ready to set 'em loose."

Roisin took the precaution of hiding behind Greg as she removed her necklace and earrings, wrapping them in a handkerchief and tucking them into a pocket. She picked up a Niffler at random, squeaking as it promptly buried it's snout in the junction of her neck and shoulder. It really was quite adorable.

"Hang on," Hagrid looked down at the crate and then around at the class, "There's a spare Niffler here… where's Hermione?"

Ron spoke before anyone could make a snide remark. "She had to go to the hospital wing."

It was easily the most enjoyable lesson they had ever had so far. The Nifflers dived in and out of the earth , as swift and smooth as fish in water, scurrying back to the student who had released them and spitting gold into their hands.

Ron's Niffler seemed to be winning the competition so far, prompting the red-head to ask if they could be bought as pets. Hagrid laughed. "Yer mum wouldn't be too happy, Ron. They wreck houses, Nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot now; I only buried about a hundred coins. Oh, there yeh are, Hermione!"

Roisin looked over and winced. Hermione was walking over the lawn, her hands heavily bandaged and looking miserable. Hagrid was tactful enough to avoid drawing more attention to the unfortunate girl. "Well, let's check how yeh've done! Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, eyes narrowing. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a couple of hours."

Roisin rolled her eyes and headed back to the castle as the bell rang, toying with the idea of setting a Niffler loose in the Third-Year Ravenclaw Girls dorms. Most of everything Luna owned was shiny or sparkly, to either attract or ward off the various creatures that only she knew of, and despite the anti-theft wards, Luna's possessions still tended to mysteriously disappear on a regular basis.

Unlike her friend, Roisin did not think that Nargles were involved, and if Luna's room-mates thought it was funny, then it would only be fair for them to get a taste of their own medicine.

* * *

Hate Mail continued to arrive for Hermione, and while she had taken to simply not opening them, some of the letters turned out to be Howlers, which shouted their contents across the Great Hall for everyone to hear, so it only took a few days before everyone knew about the Harry-Hermione-Viktor 'love triangle'. Roisin felt sorry for the other girl, but couldn't help taking advantage of the situation, promising to get Slytherin House off Hermione's back about it if Hermione would lay off Roisin about S.P.E.W.

As Fifth-, Sixth- and Seventh-Years were too busy studying for exams to care about other people's romantic woes, lower years could be bribed or intimidated into behaving themselves, and Pansy quickly ran out of things to say, this was very much in Roisin's favour.

It didn't matter too much, however, as Hermione seemed to have latched onto a new cause (or had been forcefully barred from the Kitchens by the House Elves, which Roisin found a bit more likely), and both of them had other things to worry about, anyway.

The work-load had been mounting ever higher, leading up to the Easter Holidays, and Moody was putting them through a series of practical tests. The latest was a rigorous one of hex-deflection that left most of the class nursing small injuries. Roisin was one of the few who wasn't, having alternated between dodging, deflecting, and hiding behind her larger classmates, but still got drafted into helping the less fortunate up to visit Madam Pomfrey at the end of each lesson.

Free time was non-existent, and Roisin found herself constantly in one of three locations: The Library, the Slytherin Common Room, or her Dorm. She thanked the stars that Winky had apparently taken the talk about being a good House Elf to heart, cutting back on the Butterbeer and making sure to bring meals down to the Fourth-Year dorm on the ever-more-frequent occasions that Roisin and the other girls accidentally found themselves working through dinner.

They had a brief reprive during the actual Easter Holidays, when a lack of classes meant that they could spread the work out, spend a bit of time relaxing outdoors, and get in a bit of work on the Animagus Project. By now, Roisin had managed to change her head, limbs, body and extremities into a wolf one at a time, and was working on changing all of her at once.

Millicent was also having a great deal of success at turning herself into a bear, which everyone was careful not to comment on. Desdemona had discovered her form to be a hummingbird, which Roisin thought was very appropriate. She didn't know how Draco was doing, as he had flatly refused to practice in front of an audience ever since discovering that he could turn into a ferret.

* * *

The start of the Summer Term normally would have meant people practising and looking forward to the final Quidditch Match of the year, but this time, it meant the approach of the third and final Triwizard Task, which meant that Roisin was back to joining Ron and Hermione in helping Harry practice.

Harry certainly had more than enough to worry about as it was, but Roisin was starting to get an increasingly Bad Feeling on top of it. For once, she couldn't wait for the school year to be over.

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_A/N: Ok, new chapter up!_  
_Bad News: Last chapter has 264 hits, and the story as a whole is on 169 favourites and 172 alerts, yet **Luli Cullen **was the only person who reviewed._  
_Good News: the next chapter is in the works and there are only one or two left until the end of Year Four. Lets see if we can get to 300 by then and top my record._

_I'm not demanding mindless praise, but it is nice to know what people think._

_Thanks, Nat _


	60. Practice and Exams

_Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, we've all heard it before._  
_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE**

An outraged Yelena was not what anyone wanted to see first thing in the morning, but it was early enough that the two girls were not overheard when Yelena swore her to secrecy and told her what was wrong. Briefly, Roisin wondered if 'Promise not to tell anyone' was just for show, because speaking that phrase to someone like Lavender Brown would have ensured that the entire castle knew about it before the sun had properly risen.

Yelena's news, however, was enough to stop her from pursuing that line of thought any further.

Apparently, Viktor had asked Harry for a word after whatever Ludo Bagman wanted them for was done, something about Skeeter's article concerning Hermione, which made Roisin wonder just how close the Brainiac and the Bulgarian Seeker had become. An international sports star would know better than anyone that journalists were fickle, and anything they wrote should be taken with a good handful of salt.

Anyway, they had cleared the air, but had been interrupted by Mr Crouch, who was not taking a leave of absence, but was certainly ill, as he was carrying on a conversation with thin air, and generally acting like an escapee from Bedlam.

Harry had run to get help from the castle, but was barely out of sight when somebody attacked Krum from behind, Stunning him before he could see who it was. When he woke up, Harry had returned with Professor Dumbledore, and Crouch was nowhere to be seen, leading Professor Karkaroff to suspect that the Ministry Head of Department was behind the attack.

Naturally, he was furious, as was the entire Durmstrang ship. They had heard about the incident by being woken up to shouting, which turned out to be a lecture that Viktor was suffering through for going off alone with a rival and being careless enough that someone could attack him from behind in the first place.

Yelena probably would have continued, but the Hall was starting to fill up, and Desdemona was headed in their direction. Desdemona in a normal mood was enough to make people grit their teeth. Desdemona weighed down by homework, a lack of sleep, and worry over the looming Exams was enough for people to make excuses and run away. Yelena quickly stood up and moved to sit with the rest of the Durmstrang students, who were clustered at the end of the Hufflepuff Table for once.

It was kind of amusing to see Hermione enter the Hall, look around to find Viktor, and rush over to see if he was all right. Roisin knew better than to think that Harry wouldn't have told his two best friends, but it wouldn't be very diplomatic to burst out laughing. As such, she went back to her History of Magic homework, which was due in two hours, but had been left for last because Professor Binns usually forgot that he had even set homework in the first place.

Except, of course, for days when you had decided to tempt fate and for some reason not finished, in which case he would naturally ask for the assignment to be handed in at the beginning of class.

* * *

Everyone was always thankful when History of Magic was over, but when you were twitching in anticipation rather than staring blankly in a bored stupor, it meant that something was up, and you probably didn't want to know. When Harry was the one acting twitchy, it meant that Roisin probably did want to know the cause, if only to try and talk them out of whatever half-baked plan they had come up with this time.

She caught up to them just as they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Moody was just coming out, looking exhausted. "Professor Moody?"

Short sleep = short tempers, and Roisin had attempted to avoid Moody as much as possible outside of class ever since she had been on the wrong end of his wand less than a minute after he had turned a housemate into a ferret. Deciding that she could talk to Harry later, Roisin made herself scarce.

* * *

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when you had to stay indoors. For the next several days, Roisin's very limited free time was spent helping Harry practice spells for the Third Task, which took place on the last day of exams.

Right now, they were working on Stunning Spells, which required certain sacrifices from the helpers. Not so much from Roisin, who had quickly volunteered to be a moving target, since several of the things he would face would be mobile and able to fight back. Casting a cushioning charm on herself, she was now getting plenty of exercise dodging Harry's spells. He was getting very quick.

Ron, on the other hand, was just picking himself up from the floor, having been Stunned and re-awoken for the fifth time in a row. "Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris? Let's stun her for a bit. Or you could ask Dobby, Harry, I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything – "he got to his feet, rubbing his backside, " – but I'm aching all over."

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you?" Hermione sounded impatient as she re-arranged the cushions Professor Flitwick had been using for Banishing Spells, and they had converted into a makeshift landing pad. Roisin thought that Hermione's tone was probably a result of Ron's suggestion of using Dobby as target practice.

Still, it was a bit much. "It's kind of hard to aim where you're falling once you've been stunned, Hermione. It's not like he can just fall backward like if he'd just lost his balance."

Ron agreed. "If you think it's so easy, why don't you take a turn?"

Hermione would rather not, and quickly moved on. "Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway. We don't have to worry about disarming; he's been able to do that for ages… I think we ought to start on some of those Hexes this evening."

She looked down at the list she had made, comparing it to Roisin's shorter list. "I like the look of this one, the Impediment Jinx. It should slow down anything that's trying to attack you, Harry."

Roisin nodded, gingerly prodding a bruise on her hip from one of the times she hadn't managed to dodge Harry's Stunner. Casting a small healing spell that Aiobhe had taught her when Aiden was trying to teach her to ride, she agreed with Hermione. "We'll start with that one. The four-point spell looked useful, too."

As if on cue, the bell rang, and Roisin grabbed her bag, joining Hermione as they made a dash for the Arithmancy classroom.

* * *

Roisin didn't know how they were doing it, but Desdemona and Blaise were catching up to Roisin and Millicent in the Animagus transformation. Perhaps it was because they were taking easier and fewer courses, and therefore had a bit more free time. Theo had become an owl, with a slightly longer beak, possibly reflecting Theo's long nose, which Roisin thought appropriate for the bookish boy. Pansy had not appreciated the jokes when her form was discovered to be a pug dog with grey eyes, and was practicing with Draco.

Blaise was a Korat cat, eyes as black as his human form, rather than the typical green or gold. Roisin found this even more appropriate than Theo's owl. Korat cats were typically quite aloof and difficult to please, requiring periods of 'me-time' and not slow to let their humans know exactly what they wanted. With a lot of patience, however, they could be trained, and if they liked you, you had a loyal friend for life.

Roisin had managed, through practice just before she went to sleep, to change her head and body simultaneously. This was best done lying down, as otherwise she found herself flat on her face, thanks to limbs that were the wrong shape to support her lupine body.

* * *

After two years of having them pounded into your head, and having experimented with clusters of your own making, Runic Alphabets were easy enough to keep straight in your head. It was when you were translating them into words, rather than based off their meanings, and therefore had to figure out the language as well as the runes, that things got difficult.

Roisin couldn't wait until next year, when they went onto hieroglyphics. They Ancient Egyptians might have had over 5000 hieroglyphs, but at least they were more or less clear on what they meant. Her main consolation was that everyone else was trying to learn out of just the textbook. Roisin favoured kinesthetic learning, and was very slowly making her way through _Beowulf_ in the original Nordic Runes.

She wondered how Hermione was managing. With studying, homework, some kind of new cause, and researching spells for Harry to use, she had to be flat out. Roisin wasn't suggesting that they sacrifice Harry's well-being for the sake of their Academic Career, but couldn't she let Ron or Harry do a bit of the research? Harry didn't have exams, and if Ron had enough spare time for the occasional game of chess, he had enough time to do research.

Roisin was frantically going over her notes for Potions, which was the first exam tomorrow, and trying to think of what she would need for the Practical component in the Ancient Runes exam, when a glowing shield of some kind snapped into place over her desk.

Looking around to see who could be responsible, Roisin spotted Winky standing behind her, hands on hips and fixing Roisin with a stern look. "Miss Roisin ma'am is working herself sick! She is already prepared for exams and will not do any good overworking herself!"

What happened to the quiet, unhappy elf of only a few weeks ago? Roisin was beginning to understand Draco and Pansy's stories of tyrannical Nursery Elves. "But – "

Winky stopped her with a severe look that Professor McGonagall would envy. Roisin thought that Mr Crouch and any of his children must have been the most well-behaved kids on the planet, if Winky had been their caretaker. "No. Winky has drawn a hot bath, and Miss Roisin ma'am is going to soak for an hour, then eat the meal Winky had made her and have an early night. Miss Roisin has studied very hard and will start to forget if she tries to remember more."

Well, Roisin had to admit that she had been about to fall asleep at her desk (again) and decided that Winky probably had a point. Her Dorm-mates still had about three hours of panicked studying before Madam Pince threw them out of the library for the night, and a hot bath did sound truly lovely right now…

* * *

Monday was the Potions and Transfiguration Exams.

Potions had been… interesting. They had been given a list of ingredients, and had to write an essay on what poisons they knew that could be made with those ingredients and then brew an antidote for two of them. Professor Snape must have been in a vindictive mood, because only the very deadliest poisons required Manticore fangs.

Citing the use of a Bezoar for one of the antidotes might have been considered a cop-out, but it was a legitimate answer, and Roisin didn't think that she would be able to finish the other antidote in time if she had to brew more than one.

Transfiguration had been difficult, but went well. They had been required to write an essay on the moral and physical ramifications of animate to inanimate Transfiguration, and then had to turn a guinea-pig into a tea-cozy. Roisin's tea-cozy was the same shades of brown and black as the guinea-pig had originally been, and the beads trimming it bore a strong resemblance to the animal's black eyes, but at least it was properly crocheted in fine thread. Pansy's tea-cozy still had eyes, and Theo's was woven out of guinea-pig hair, rather than crocheted from thread. Roisin didn't know what had happened for Greg to cover his guinea-pig in corn and salt, and chose not to ask.

* * *

Roisin was very, very glad that she had been working on rune clusters when she got to the Ancient Runes exam on Tuesday. The exam consisted of using runes to re-create the effects of a spell, extra credit offered if you used more than one runic alphabet, or managed to combine two or more spells. They also had to write an essay beforehand, detailing what they expected the spell to do. Roisin supposed that this was to stop students from completely screwing up and trying to pretend that they had planned the runic spell to work like that all along.

Proper _Thurisaz_, for directive force in defence and cleansing fire, combined with the Ancient Germanic symbol for light, resulted in something like a flash grenade, combined with a Reductor Curse. Aligned with the Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyph for a shield, the end result was your opponent being blown backward and blinded, while you were protected from any effects by an opaque shield.

Professor Babbling was impressed, at least, and Hermione would have to come up with something truly spectacular to top that! Roisin left the exam feeling very pleased with herself.

Given Professor Moody's lessons throughout the year, Roisin had no illusions that the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was going to be anything less than trying to survive a gauntlet of hexes. Roisin was better at offence than defense, and using classmates as human shields would probably be frowned upon. On the other hand, Moody's oft-yelled motto was CONSTANT VILIGANCE, so he would probably give extra marks for anyone who came with a back-up plan.

None of the teachers particularly cared what you wore under your school robes (though hormonal members of the opposite sex often did), as long as you were appropriately attired. When the Triwizard Champions were announced, and the _Potter Stinks_ badges had been circulating, Roisin had spent a week wearing her Basilisk-skin clothes under her uniform, at least until tempers died down.

It had been a good idea, and saved her from several very nasty hexes by less-discriminating Gryffindors. There was nothing to say that she could not do the same during the Defense exam. When coupled with all of the practice she had from helping Harry prepare for the Third Task, Defense Against the Dark Arts was the one exam she didn't need to worry about.

* * *

Arithmancy on Wendesday had been hard!

They had to find the Exam room, again, but that was the easy part. Two hours of complex equations, mathematical formulas, and reverse-calculating a Arithmancy Prediction. The last, in essence, involved being given a prediction and trying to figure out the numbers, dates and properties. Roisin's brain was actually hurting when they finally finished and handed in their tests.

Luckily, the next exam was Herbology, where they only had to write about the properties of Bubotubers and, as a twist, the Muggle way of caring for rose-bushes. The practical, at least, only involved re-potting a few other magical plants, without any of them dying on you.

* * *

On Thursday, Roisin suspected that someone had spoken to Hagrid about the Care of Magical Creatures exam, or he was trying to prove the point that he wasn't obsessed with dangerous creatures. The written portion was an essay on why Nifflers should not be kept as pets, (Roisin wondered if a single essay didn't contain a healthy dose of satire) and the practical was to feed and groom a Unicorn. Again thanks to Aiden and his riding lessons, and being a female virgin, Roisin got through it with little trouble.

Charms had been a series of Multiple Choice questions on what they had covered that year, and testing on random spells. Professor Flitwick probably wasn't impressed when Roisin's nerves had got the better of her, causing a vastly overpowered charm and resulting in the cushion she was Banishing to fly through the window, smashing it. Professor Trelawney probably wasn't pleased, either, as her tower was adjacent to the Charms Classroom, and the cushion had broken her window, as well.

Lavender, at least, had been pleased, as she had predicted an 'unexpected assult', and was just leaving her exam when the cushion flew in and knocked Professor Trelawney off her chair.

* * *

For some reason, History of Magic always seemed to take the longest of the End of Year Exams, despite the fact that Potions and Transfiguration were both at least an hour longer. As taught by Professor Binns (Aunt Nessa taught in story-format, and Roisin could listen to her for hours, and recite most Irish legends from memory) it was also very much not her best subject.

Having slept through most of breakfast, Roisin's nose was still in her History of Magic textbook as she walked down from her dorm, missed a step, and tumbled head over heels.

Since she was only two steps from the Common Room, she only received two bruised knees and a face full of discarded Daily Prophet. Muttering something unpleasant under her breath, Roisin pulled the newspaper off and picked herself up. Catching sight of the front page, Roisin repeated her earlier words, significantly louder.

HARRY POTTER 'DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'

_The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous,_ writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. _Alarming evidence had recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts on his suitability to compete in a demanding contest like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School_

As soon as the History of Magic exam was over, Roisin needed to see about looking up libel laws in the Wizarding World. Normally Rita's articles were annoying, but harmless enough. This was dangerous! Roisin had seen stories of International Terrorists that didn't contain this much deliberate malice! Even last year, before they had discovered that Sirius was innocent, the stories about him weren't nearly as detailed in their negativity!

_Potter, the _Daily Prophet_ can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who tried to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your _Daily Prophet_ reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his head was hurting too badly to continue studying._

_It is possible, say experts at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that his scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion._

"_He might even be pretending," says one specialist, "This could be a plea for attention."_

Weren't healers supposed to actually examine patients before making that kind of judgment? Madam Pomfrey wouldn't break her Oath of Confidentiality, and as far as Roisin knew, no one else had dealt with Harry in any kind of medical capacity.

_The_ Daily Prophet_, however, had unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the Wizarding public._

"_Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, fourth-year student. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought that Potter was behind them when he lost his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants, too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."_

Why was it that Draco could pull off this kind of insinuation in a news article, yet was completely lacking in anything approaching subtle the rest of the time? If he could be half as discreet as this when dealing with other students, it would save everyone a lot of trouble. It would also save a lot of House Points whenever he opened his mouth in front of any teacher aside from Professor Snape.

_Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Forces Defense League, who wished to remain un-named, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue as "worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anyone who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark magic, and are historically associated with evil-doers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."_

_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the Tournament, the Third Task of which takes place this evening._

There was something behind all of this. No journalist would be foolish enough to risk their career over this kind of biased writing unless they had someone very rich and/or very powerful backing them up. Between them, Sirius Black and Harry Potter were a force to be reckoned with, certainly enough to lean on the Daily Prophet editor and get Rita not only fired, but possibly Black-listed. Not to mention, there were others who would back him up, if needed.

In a slightly more whimsical frame of mind, Roisin might have considered that someone had made a bigger bet than they could afford, and were trying to get Harry removed from the tournament all together.

Pulling herself together as the bell rang, Roisin made a dash for the door, running to get to her last exam on time, mentally thinking of a plan to deal with this.

Roisin was going to sound a few people out. Someone was trying to run a Smear Campaign, for reasons unknown, and she needed to find out who would ignore the lies and stand with Harry, and who would start doing sheep impersonations. Ernie Macmillan was probably squirming over the mention of Second Year, and he belonged to an old Pureblood family, with the respect and influence that commanded. Fleur Delacour's father was high up in the French Ministry, and Fleur wouldn't hear a word against Roisin's cousin ever since he saved Gabrielle in the Second Task. Parvati's family ran the Shipping Company that supplied almost every merchant in the Magical UK, including ink and paper for the Daily Prophet printing press. Even the threat of declaring a boycott would be enough to make most people fold.

Right now, however, she had a History of Magic exam to be getting to. Plotting the Potential Overthrow of the Daily Prophet could wait a few hours.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Points to anyone who can figure out the significance of corn and salt with a guinea pig._

_There will be one or two more chapters on Fourth Year, depending on how the next chapter turns out. My computer ate several chapters I'd been working on, so updates may take a while. Sorry._

_I AM NOT BEGGING FOR REVIEWS, but I'm on 290. My 300th reviewer gets to ask for something they want to see, and I'll do my best to include it!_

* * *

_To the reviewer who didn't leave their name or way of answering_: "**his chapter and the whole snape bit ruined it for me co you have to be a complete imbisile to write out snape the jkr way and have your main character be fine with him showing up her relative for no reason"**

_You are, of course, entitled to your opinion, and I appreciate you telling me that you didn't like something. However, calling me an 'imbisile' for failing to write Snape as well as JKR did (I assume that's what you meant?), and having to read your review five times before I could make any sense of it, does not make me very inclined to take you seriously._


	61. The Third Task

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. That should be obvious to all of us, but FF.n insists._

_Summary: See previous chapters. _

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY**

Roisin staggered out of History of Magic, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week. Not far behind her, Ron looked nearly as bad as he and Hermione went to find Harry. Roisin would join them later, but for now, she had work to do.

The Hufflepuffs in her year were sprawled under a tree not far from the lake, compromising between seeing the sun and breathing non-Library air for the first time in a week, and being too mentally exhausted to move. Roisin fell down beside them, and Zacharias Smith roused himself enough to speak, "This is out spot. Go away."

Roisin's glare was half-hearted at best. "Get up and move me, them. I haven't had the chance to sit in the sun and relax for a week."

Everyone jumped when Winky popped in less than a second after Roisin had finished speaking, handed around sun-protection potions with a disapproving look that they hadn't thought of it already, and disappeared again. Ernie mustered the energy to be surprised. "That's certainly new."

Roisin couldn't help but smirk. "That's Winky. She's a new elf, and the main reason everyone in my Dorm remembered to eat and sleep leading up to exams."

Justin Finch-Fletchly, who Roisin had seen hanging around Ravenclaws a fair bit, looked interested. "How did she manage that? I had to physically drag Terry and Michael out of the Library a few times."

Roisin laughed ruefully, but fondly. "We have our own desks in the Dorm. Winky put some kind of shield around them and wouldn't remove it until we ate whatever she brought up for dinner, or got some sleep. Miniaturized little tyrant."

Susan nodded sympathetically. "I know. Mimsy is about the only one who can make Auntie Amelia do anything she doesn't want to, or get away with interrupting her in the middle of a case." She gave Roisin a piercing look that she had almost certainly copied or inherited from her by-all-accounts-formidable aunt. "Since I doubt you came to talk to us instead of your friends for no reason, may I ask what the problem is?"

There were worse subject openings. "I'm still mad at Draco for that rubbish he spouted in the _Daily Prophet_. Hippogryff dung aside, why can he quote something like that in a newspaper, and have absolutely _no_ brain-to-mouth filter the rest of the time."

There was a chorus of quiet laughter. _Everyone_ knew how Draco's mouth got him into trouble on a daily basis, and how his year-mates had given up trying to bail him out of trouble half-way through Second Year. Ernie was the one to reply. "I thought that today's article was more than a little odd, personally. Even Rita Skeeter doesn't usually include that level of vitriol in her writing, and it was a bit too well-timed to be a coincidence."

Hannah Abbott, usually a quiet girl, agreed. "It's like she was deliberately trying to discredit him. I know we weren't the nicest to him earlier this year, until Cedric told us to back off, but I hope you know that none of us support that view."

Roisin nodded, barely containing a sigh of relief. "Call me paranoid, but I think she had someone tell her to write that, or at least a motive beyond stirring up trouble. No reporter, however popular, is going to risk their career on an article like that without some serious backing, and it's a huge turn-about from how she portrayed him every other time this year."

Zacharias was about to reply, but was interrupted when the other Fourth-Year Slytherins tracked Roisin down, Draco promptly proving that his quotes in the _Daily Prophet_ were a one-time-only thing. "Hey, Roisin, we're having an end-of-exams party! Stop hanging with the 'Puffs and come celebrate!"

Roisin growled under her breath and Banished him into the lake, leaving Greg and Vince to fish him back out while Blaise and Theo laughed. Standing up, she elbowed a near-hysterical Desdemona and swept off to find the Champions.

* * *

A conversation with Fleur and her parents, and another with Yelena and the Krums, went much the same, although the foreign Champions had thought up the possibility of ulterior motives on their own. It wouldn't be the first time some highly-connected and less-than-scrupulous fan or manager had tried to discredit an opposing team before a match, and that kind of subtle maneuvering went on all the time in politics, especially when Fleur's father had married a half-Veela.

Yelena's own family 'reputation', as being descended from the 'Mad Monk' Grigori Rasputin, had resulted in articles like that appearing to spice things up every time there was a particularly slow news week. All of them promised to refute it as nonsense, which would be taken more seriously coming from an Honorable Opponent than from one of Harry's friends or relatives.

Roisin finished the day by talking to the Patil twins and Cho Chang, which actually wound up as listening to Padma and Parvati rant about slander and lies, and how they were going to make sure no one tried to start trouble with Harry over this. Roisin let them go on, while exchanging a few quiet words with Cho.

Cho and Harry weren't close, despite Harry's former crush, and knew each other best as rivals on the Quidditch Pitch. What Cho did know of Harry, however, was that he was honest boy, dangerous only so far as adolescent males were prone to stupidity in the name of impressing girls (Being ready to jump from the top box when the Veela showed up at the world cup sprang to mind), and that he and Cedric had helped each other out during the Tournament.

Finally, Roisin went to find her cousin. The rest of the afternoon was spent tracking down Harry, who was giving Bill and Mrs Weasley on a tour of the castle. Finally cornering him while Mrs Weasley talked to the portrait of a knight who she apparently remembered from her own school days, Roisin finally managed to tell him what had been bothering her all day.

Roisin was deadly serious. "Listen to me, Harry. I have a Feeling that something bad is going to happen in the Third Task. Parvati mentioned the same, and she does have some skill with Divination." (Roisin still thought that Divination was a load of random guesswork, but Parvati had an annoying tendency to be right in her random guesswork) "I want you to promise me that if anything strange and not to do with the Task happens, you will get out of there or call for help immediately. No Heroics."

Harry blinked. Growing up, he had learned to pay attention to Roisin's 'Feelings'. They weren't always clear, but those Feelings were very rarely wrong. He also thought that Divination was a load of crock, but Parvati was very good with her predictions. "You know how trouble has a habit of finding me, but I'll do my best. That's all I can promise you."

Roisin nodded, and left again. She had five hours before the feast, followed immediately by the Third Task, and after the History of Magic exam, she needed a quick nap if she didn't want to fall asleep half-way through.

* * *

Desdemona had managed to find her half an hour before the evening feast, and they entered the Great Hall together, looking around.

There was a general atmosphere of great anticipation, and the Champions looked as though they were trying very hard not to look nervous. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table, with the Minister of Magic standing in for Mr Crouch as the final judge. Bagman looked as cheerful as ever, but Fudge, seated next to Madam Maxime, looked stern and was not talking.

Interestingly enough, Madam Maxime's eyes were suspiciously red, as though she had been crying, and Hagrid kept glancing down the table at her. That was one (probably) lover's quarrel that Roisin had no intention of even asking about, much less getting involved in.

There were more courses than usual, and as the Great Hall's ceiling darkened from afternoon blue to purple dusk, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table. Silence fell as he addressed them. "Ladies and Gentlemen, in five minutes time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch Pitch for the third and last Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the Champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now."

The students all cheered as the four Champions left the hall, and excited whispering and debates broke out as soon as the doors closed behind them. Theo suggested that they leave the Hall, find the nearest window, and sneak down early to see what was going on. Draco and Pansy agreed and followed him, accompanied by the Human Bookends, only to discover that someone, probably one of the teachers, had anticipated that idea and sealed the doors as soon as the Champions were through.

When the doors opened again, there was a mad dash to get to the Quidditch Pitch and find the best seats.

* * *

The Quidditch Pitch was completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around it, and a single opening was the only clue to the maze within. Professors Hagrid, Moody, McGonagall and Flitwick approached Bagman and the Champions, wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats. Or in Hagrid's case, on the back of his jacket.

Roisin kicked two First-Years out of their seats and sat down with Ron, Hermione and the Weasleys, pulling Luna with her. They had only just sat down when Bagman's voice rang out. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the third and final Task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you of how the points currently stand! Tied in First Place, with eighty-five points each – Mr Cedric Diggory and Mr Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"

The cheers and applause managed to disturb the birds all the way in the Forbidden Forest. "In Second Place, on eighty points – Mr Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang Institute!" More applause, and several discreet applications of a low-level Deafening Charm. "And in Third Place – Miss Fleur Delacour, from Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry waved up at them, and they waved back, almost vibrating with nerves. "So, on my whistle, Harry and Cedric! Three – two – one – "

The whistle blew, and the two Hogwarts boys were off. Fifty seconds later, Krum entered the maze, and Roisin pretended not to see the tiny kiss Hermione blew him. A minute and a half after that, Bagman's whistle blew a final time, and all of the Champions were in the maze.

Upon discovering that no one would be seeing anything until the Four Champions made it back out again, (apparently like the Second Task, which actually made Roisin glad that she had been underwater. Better unconscious from a spell than unconscious from sheer boredom) Roisin and Hermione quickly put their heads together. _Ansuz,_ for true vision. _Raidho_, for travel, the larger perspective and choosing the right move. _Hagalax,_ for a trial, and Jera, for the result of earlier efforts being realized. Roisin considered for a moment, and then added _Wunjo_, for general success, because they were grasping at on-the-spot straws with trying to create this.

It worked to an extent, creating an intangible screen about fifteen inches square, but could definitely use improvement. The rune-spell could be very static, and frequently jumped between views, unexpectedly switching to different points in the maze, regardless of whether or not a Champion was there. This, of course, meant random periods where you went from Harry half way through solving a Chimera's riddle, or Viktor fighting his way through fifty feet of Devil's Snare, or when Fleur was hit by a Stunner from either thin air or someone under an invisibility cloak, to staring at a blank section where nothing was going on.

Still, it was a lot better than nothing, and scuffles regularly broke out between the students who were crowding around to try to watch. Watching Cedric do the smart thing and run from a ten-foot-long Blast-Ended Skrewt, Roisin finally told them to stop arguing, or she would destroy the rune-spell and they could go back to being bored while they waited for someone to reach the Triwizard Cup. They settled down… just in time for Ludo Bagman and Percy Weasley to come over, wanting to find out what had everyone so transfixed.

Stifling a sigh as their attention drew the three School Heads over as well, Roisin left Hermione to worry over what was happening, Roisin started explaining what the rune-spell did (but not how) to the Tournament Judges. Half-way through, Hermione let out a small shriek. Roisin cut herself off mid-sentence and almost flattened the Creevy brothers as she scrambled over to see Harry facing off against another Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Firmly reminding herself that Harry was one of the few who actually stayed put when the Skrewts started acting up in class, Roisin prayed that the rune-spell didn't make an unexpected view-switch until _after_ Harry made it out of the fight alive and in one piece.

Of course, the rune-spell immediately did just that, going back to a blank section, and Roisin went back to explaining the spell. She had just finished when a loud cheer went up from everyone watching. She turned back just in time to see that the view had switched back to Cedric, just in time to see him and Harry in a mad race for the cup, gleaming just a few meters away. Suddenly… "Cedric, on your left!"

Cedric looked just in time to hurl himself past a Giant Spider, but his wand went flying out of his hand as he did so, and he was defenseless as the Acromantula advanced.

The distant audience started to seriously fear for the young man's life, when Harry caught up and hit the spider with a loud "_Stupefy!"_

The spider turned to attack him instead of Cedric, and Harry backed up, still throwing spells. "_Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"_

Cedric scrambled for his wand and joined in the attack as the spider caught Harry, lifting him into the air. A desperate disarming spell made the creature drop him, but that meant falling twelve feet into a very hard landing. Without pausing, he threw a final stunner at the monster's soft underbelly, just as Cedric did the same. The combination of both at once succeeded, and the spider fell, flattening a nearby hedge. From one side, Cedric could be heard yelling. "Harry! Are you all right? Did it fall on you?"

Harry managed to lever himself upright, leaning against a hedge and gasping for breath as Cedric picked his way through the tangle of hairy legs, and they both looked toward the Triwizard Cup.

The rune-spell started to splutter, signaling that it was about to switch, and Roisin hastily added the hieroglyph for 'remain stationary', not knowing if it would even work, but desperate to try anyway. She wasn't missing this!

The image cleared back to the two boys.

Harry was looking at his injured leg unhappily. "Take it, then. Go on, take it. You're there."

Cedric looked at the Cup, and it was easy to see his longing expression in the golden light. Then he took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself. "You should take it. You should win. That's twice you've saved my neck in here."

Two rows behind her, Roisin could hear Amos Diggory mutter something about sometimes wishing that his son was a _little_ less obsessed with exactly fair play. Wanting the damn Tournament to be over already, Roisin agreed. Back in the maze, the spectators could barely believe what they were seeing.

"That's not how it's supposed to work. The one who reaches the Cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not winning any races on this leg."

"No."

"Stop being noble! Just take it, then we can get out of here!"

"You told me about the dragons. I would have gone down in the First Task if it wasn't for you."

"I had help on that, too! You helped me with the egg – we're square!"

"I had help on the egg in the first place."

The voices were starting to get heated. "We're still square!"

"You should have got more points on the Second Task. You stayed behind to get all of the hostages. I should have done that."

"I was the only one thick enough to take the song seriously! Just take the bloody cup!"

"No!"

Cedric stepped over the last of the spider's legs to help Harry up. He was walking away from the most Glory Hufflepuff had had in centuries. Harry was admitting defeat. Roisin couldn't believe that they were arguing over how the other was more deserving of the prize! Had they stepped into an alternate reality and no one had told her?

Cedric looked like the decision was costing him every ounce of resolve he had, but his face was set. "Go on."

For a moment, Harry looked tempted, but then he said something that made Roisin possibly the proudest she had ever been. "Both of us."

Cedric blinked. "What?"

Harry looked like he couldn't believe this was happening. "We'll take the Cup at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

"You – you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah… we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. We'll take it together."

For a moment, Cedric looked like he couldn't believe his ears (in the stands, neither could anyone else); then his face split into a grin. "You're on. Come here."

He slung Harry's arm over his shoulder, wrapping his free arm around Harry's waist, and helped him over to where the Cup waited. They both held out a hand over the handles. "On three, right? One – two – three – "

They grasped the cup at the same time, and suddenly vanished.

* * *

The crowd started to murmur worriedly as Harry and Cedric vanished after touching the cup. Less than a minute later, there was a flash of bright light and Cedric re-appeared, clutching the cup, but no Harry.

Dumbledore, Mr Diggory and Professor Sprout ran over to where he lay, all three frantic to know what happened. Cedric appeared equally frantic, pointing to the Aurors of Fudge's guard detail in a manner that suggested he needed them for an emergency. Since Harry and Cedric had taken the Cup at the same time, and Harry was conspicuously absent, it probably was something that qualified as an emergency.

Roisin hated being right whenever her Bad Feelings were concerned! Using a number of words that Yelena had refused to translate, Roisin ran toward the group, desperate to know what was going on, and touched Dumbledore's arm just in time to feel an all-too-familiar tug behind her navel.

* * *

They landed in a Graveyard, which would have been eerily silent, if not for the shouting and un-natural light coming from nearby.

Thankfully, everyone present was smart enough to not go barreling in straight away, and they managed to get closer, unseen.

There was nothing that Roisin could do about Harry or Voldemort at the current time, locked in a golden shield and a battle of wills, but she could do something about the Death Eaters. A gravestone nearby was crowned with an angel holding a sword, the sword being actual metal. Aiming carefully, Roisin shot her modified version of the Stinging Hex.

Hitting the sword at an angle, the hex ricocheted off and hit a Death Eater, who shrieked and started dancing around in an attempt to escape, flinging curses and accidentally hitting several other Death Eaters. Crouched beside her, Cedric gave an approving grin, before aiming at another gravestone with some kind of crystal at the top and shooting a hex that Roisin didn't recognize.

The spell hit the crystal, amplifying and dividing, and then reflected off to target five other Death Eaters, who were already glancing around nervously.

Silvery spirits, a witch who Roisin had seen on a 'Missing' poster, and old man, and two people who could only be Uncle James and Aunt Lily, surrounded the pair of Harry and Lord Voldemort, whispering. Suddenly, they all flowed to surround Voldemort, obscuring, distracting, as Harry yanked his wand upward, breaking the connection. "NOW!"

One of the Ministry Aurors had created a Portkey big enough for all of them to grab by that time, and it was easy to see that the Death Eaters were battling against something, but Harry was acting on instinct right now, and might very well run in the opposite direction.

"Harry! Over here!" Cedric leapt out of his shelter long enough to Summon an abandoned shovel lying beyond the group of Dark Wizards. Flying toward him, it came within inches of impaling Voldemort through the head, before the Dark Lord hit the shovel with a Blasting Hex, reducing it to splinters.

"_Kill the boy!"_

Being the only 'boy' other than Harry around, (Everyone else was either grown or, in the case of Roisin, McGonagall and an Auror with brightly-coloured hair, female) and correctly assuming that Voldemort would want that honor for himself, Cedric dived out of the way of a killing curse, which struck a large tombstone behind him. The curse missed him, saving his life, but a chunk of marble the size of Roisin's head landed on his leg, crushing it. A smaller piece caught Roisin's arm, though thankfully not her Wand Arm, and she heard and felt something snap. A number of shards also sliced through her robes, leaving shallow cuts over her lower ribs and hip.

A curse from a tall, black-skinned Auror brought the responsible Death Eater down, and Harry was running toward them at a kind of limping sprint, so Roisin wrapped Cedric's leg tightly in a rope splint, like Professor Lupin had done for Ron last year. In doing so, however, she had made the mistake of taking her attention away from her surroundings, and fell beneath a Cruciatus Curse.

Yelling in pain as her fall jarred his injured leg, Cedric aimed a Reducto Curse at the Death Eater, and then Harry was beside them, and a length of rope was being pressed into their hands, and they were being Portkeyed back to Hogwarts.

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_A/N: OK, does anyone else think that it is really stupid to have people just sit and stare at nothing for hours? If Dumbledore had to ask the Mer-Chieftess what happened in the Second Task, that means that everyone else was sitting outside on a February Morning (I looked up average February temperatures in Scotland. -15 C was not uncommon) staring at the lake, with no idea what was going on. Roisin and Hermione were both unconscious Hostages at this time, but do you really think that the audience would want to just sit and stare until it was over? If it hadn't been an Inter-School Tournament, I would bet on half of them staying inside for the first forty minutes and coming back out in time for the Champions to return and receive their scores._

_No one shouted an alert and came running in to stop Krum when he used the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric Diggory, or kicked up a fuss when Moody/Crouch Stunned Fleur, so we can assume that those patrolling had to rely on looking for red sparks of distress, and that the audience didn't know what was going on until Harry re-appeared with Cedric's body._

_Hermione tends to consult a book before she does nearly anything new or invented, but Roisin has been experimenting and had to come up with a rune-spell on the spot in her exam only days ago. Are you telling me that two intelligent witches with a very real and personal concern for at least one Champion wouldn't at least try to see what was going on?_

_As always, Constructive Criticism is appreciated, but Flames are not._

_Thanks, Nat_


	62. A Storm Is Coming

**CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE**

Moody had taken charge of Harry, saying that he wanted to check him over for Dark Magic. Sirius had reluctantly agreed, but added that he would find them as soon as he had spoken to Dumbledore. The Diggorys descended upon their son, carting him off to the Hospital Wing. Professor Sprout quickly followed, levitating Roisin and ignoring the girl's loud protests that her legs were fine and she could still walk.

She arrived just in time to witness Cedric's face at Madam Pomfrey's pronouncement that the bones in his legs were beyond fixing with a spell, and the best treatment would be to Vanish them entirely and a large dose of Skele-Gro. Roisin also had a badly broken arm, and had heard horror-stories of Skele-Grow. She renewed her struggle to escape the Herbology Professor.

She stopped struggling when she was petrified from behind by a very stern-looking Fionna, who had apparently been alerted by Mary and/or Seamus

Roisin had been firmly settled into a bed, informed to stay there or else, and was trying to find a way of escaping that would not violate Madam Pomfrey's orders. It didn't do to make a healer angry with you, after all. She was toying with the idea of levitating the bed out with her in it when the normal, if relative, tranquillity of the Hospital Wing was shattered.

First Professor Snape came in, levitating someone, though Roisin was in the wrong angle to see who it was. Madam Pomfrey closed the curtains around him before Roisin could scoot forward to look, and her Head of House promptly left again. Less than half a minute later, Ron and Hermione burst in, accompanied by Mrs Weasley and Bill, and rushed straight to Madam Pomfrey. From what Roisin could make out (all four were talking over the top of each other), they wanted to know where Harry was and what condition he was in.

Madam Pomfrey was repeating for the sixth time that Harry had not arrived yet and that they needed to let her tend to her other patients (Roisin's arm had been splinted, but not properly diagnosed by the Medi-Witch, and Cedric was being forced to make do with a Pain Relief potion until Madam Pomfrey could get in contact with St Mungo's. Apparently, the supply of Skele-Gro had been used up after the DADA exam.) when Winky appeared, wailing and sobbing.

Roisin blinked in surprise. "Winky? What on earth – "

Winky looked distraught, as she had not since the beginning of the school year. "Master Barty is being a very bad boy, Miss Roisin ma'am! He is shaming his family! Winky failed to teach him a proper sense of duty, and he is doing terrible things! He is – "

On the other side of the room, Ron opened his mouth, likely to say something tactless about how the Gryffindor Trio had suspected Barty Crouch of acting suspicious for months. Roisin reached for her wand to Silence him before he could get the words out, but the bedside table was on the wrong side (probably Madam Pomfrey's attempt to prevent her from using it in the first place), and she hissed in pain as she accidentally jostled her injured arm reaching across to grab it. The sound drew Winky out of her grief, and she noticed Roisin's condition.

After the experience of the last fortnight, Roisin had an idea of what would happen next, and braced herself as Winky looked even more upset. Luckily, the little House Elf didn't burst into tears, but rushed over to the bed. "Miss Roisin is hurt! But she will be better soon, Winky promises. Winky will take good care of Miss Roisin, she will! Winky will make sure that Miss Roisin ma'am will have plenty of rest and good care and will throw out anyone who tries to upset Miss!"

Cedric was grinning openly as Winky bustled around Roisin, straightening the covers and fluffing pillows and even producing a small washcloth to wipe the sweat, dirt and tiny fragments of shattered gravestone off of Roisin's face, robes and hair. Roisin didn't bother to argue, as Winky obviously needed something to do to keep her mind off whatever had happened. Her grandmother and cousins and Blaise were going to fuss anyway, so what was one more?

A quiet snicker came from the doorway, where Cho, a Sixth-Year Hufflepuff Roisin didn't know, and the rest of the Slytherin Fourth-Years had just arrived. Cho and the Hufflepuff instantly gravitated to Cedric's bedside, while the Slytherins made their slower way over to Roisin. Millicent didn't bother hiding her amusement. "This is going to be the last fortnight all over again, isn't it?"

Roisin sent her friend a dark look as Winky made sure that her waterglass was exactly three-quarters full, so that she had enough to drink but couldn't accidentally spill it on herself, and Blaise leaned over to kiss her, trying not to look too amused. Draco patted her leg, the closest he could reach from his place beyond Blaise and the other girls. "Don't worry, Roisin. I'm sure you'll survive."

Roisin's retort was cut off by a yelp, as Draco managed to pat directly on top of one of the deeper, still-healing, cuts. Since her legs were hidden under the covers, and no one had told them exactly what Roisin's injuries were, she couldn't really blame him, but it still bloody hurt! Winky was not so forgiving, and snapped her fingers, following through on her threat as Draco was literally tossed out of the door, which the visitors had thankfully forgotten to close behind them.

Hearing the loud spluttering that usually preceded an indignant rant, Roisin waved a hand toward the door and the general area that Draco had probably landed. "Go deal with him, will you? I'll be fine here; I'm just tired."

Blaise kissed her again, much more carefully. "Of course, Rose. We'll try to find out what everyone is saying, and we'll be back to visit in the morning."

Their exit was perhaps a bit quicker than it usually would have been, but Roisin couldn't help smiling. The smile faded slightly when she spotted Hermione, who looked torn between another S.P.E.W. rant and temporarily ignoring it in favour of bothering Madam Pomfrey for the seventh time.

To everyone's relief, it became a moot point as everyone was distracted by Harry finally entering, accompanied by Dumbledore, Sirius, and the Diggorys, the latter of whom had been kicked out earlier so that Madam Pomfrey could tend to Cedric without their constant fretting. From the writing on the large crate Mr Diggory was carrying, they had decided to be productive and buy more Skele-Gro potion while they waited.

Mrs Weasley was the first of those already in the Hospital Wing to recover, giving a small shriek. "Harry! Oh, Harry!"

She started to hurry forward, but was blocked by Sirius, who recognized that Harry was banged up enough that a giant Mrs Weasley hug was going to do more harm than good. Dumbledore held up a hand as Madam Pomfrey took the crate from Mr Diggory. "Molly, please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to re-live it for me."

Roisin looked up sharply as Madam Pomfrey vanished the bones in Cedric's leg and measured out an appropriate dose of Skele-Gro, fixing him with a Healer Stare until he drank it. What had happened to a quick check for Dark Magic and then straight to the Hospital Wing? Yes, obviously Voldemort was an issue, but couldn't it wait until Harry's physical injuries were at least seen to?

She was about to say something sharp to that effect, but Dumbledore was still talking, and she didn't have the energy to interrupt. "What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you to stay with him, you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs Weasley nodded, looking very white, and promptly rounded on Hermione and her two sons. "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

Luckily, the red-haired woman missed Sirius rolling his eyes behind her back, and Mrs Diggory provided a brief distraction. "Does anyone know what happened to young Mr Malfoy? He was headed away from the Hospital Wing, but quite obviously limping. I doubt that Madam Pomfrey would let him leave without care, and sprains are easily fixed."

Cedric's laugh had a note of being forced , as though he needed to be amused at something, or he would break down completely over the night's event. "He tried to pat Roisin's knee, but hit one of her injuries by accident. The House Elf literally threw him out for distressing one of the patients."

Exhausted as he looked, Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning. Roisin would have said something, but Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a goblet of Dreamless Sleep potion, and her grandmother had just returned, looking at her with a very familiar stern expression.

Feeling like an unruly child being told to take their medicine, Roisin drank up without complaint. Dumbledore was saying something more to Harry, but Roisin was far too drowsy to make it out, and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

It couldn't have been more than a few hours later when Roisin woke very suddenly to the sound of shouting.

Bolting upright, she looked around. Cedric was also awake, though that might have been from the Skele-grow, and someone had apparently convinced the Diggorys and Fionna to leave and get some rest.

Roisin had met Fudge only once before tonight, but the lime-green bowler hat was hard to miss. Maybe that was why he wore it in the first place. Right now, the Minister was the one yelling. "Preposterous! Remove the Dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for even suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds because we know the Dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

Things must be heated, if Fudge forgot himself enough to mention Dementors and Azkaban in front of Sirius. Roisin hated arriving in the middle of a conversation! Dumbledore's reply was quieter, but a lot more intense. Roisin leaned over to whisper to Cedric, "What's going on?"

Cedric's jaw was clenched, which Roisin took to mean that his leg-bones were growing back, but he managed to reply. "Fudge administered the Kiss to someone who could have given evidence, and doesn't believe us about You-Know-Who's return. Dumbledore is trying to convince him to take steps, but…"

He shrugged and gestured over to where Fudge was now shouting about something to do with Giants. Roisin winced. "This is going to cause a lot of trouble for everyone involved, isn't it?"

Cedric nodded. "Dad says that Fudge is very good at sticking his head in the sand and coming up with excuses for anything that goes wrong. Dad says that if Fudge was an animagus, he would be an ostrich. I don't know what he'll do, but I doubt that it's going to be pretty."

Roisin held back a giggle at the mental image of Fudge as an ostrich with a lime green crest and grimly agreed, before the rare occurrence of Dumbledore raising his voice drew their attention back to the argument. "You are blinded by the love of the office you hold!" Dumbledore looked livid, which inspired a sinking feeling in Roisin's stomach. Anger made people less careful with their words. "You place too much importance, as you always have, on the so-called 'Purity' of blood! You fail to realize that it matters not what a person is born, but what they grow to be! Your Dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a Pureblood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life!"

Dumbledore was actually shouting now, and those who knew how to look could see that everyone not confined to a hospital bed was trying very hard to stop themselves from backing away. "I tell you now – take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and History will remember you as the man who stepped aside, and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we tried to rebuild."

Dumbledore was treading on dangerous ground. He was trying to back Fudge into a corner, and when there is no place left to run, even the most cowardly will fight back. Fudge had yet to reach an actual corner, but he was backing away. "Mad… insane…"

And if someone could press Rita and the Daily Prophet into writing and publishing an article that portrayed Harry, a reletivly well-adjusted schoolboy and Hero, as disturbed, what could the Minister of Magic do, when Dumbledore was much older, and already had a reputation for being eccentric at best? Dumbledore's voice held no threat, but rang with a note of finality. "If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. You will act as you see fit. And I – I shall act as I see fit."

And Fudge hit the metaphorical corner. "Now see here, Dumbledore," Fudge waved a would-be threatening finger at the Headmaster, "I've let you have a free reign with how you run things, always. There aren't many who would let you hire a werewolf, or keep on Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me – "

Dumbledore interrupted. "The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

Roisin had the very bad feeling that Dumbledore had over-played his hand. The Minister did not want to accept that Voldemort was back. Dumbledore had all but said that if Fudge _didn't_ accept the fact, he no longer had Dumbledore's support. Fudge was a politition, and knew that in a popularity contest, Dumbledore would win. Fudge would have to wait until the Daily Prophet opened in the morning, or perhaps wait a bit until the rumourmongers started talking about the night's events, but Roisin didn't need to be a seer to spot the almost-certainty that Dumbledore was about to be on the wrong end of his own smear campaign.

While she had been considering that, Professor Snape had entered the conversation, which had returned to being spoken in an undertone. Now, Fudge drew himself up to his full, somewhat limited, height and turned to leave. He stopped just before he reached the door, turning toward the other end of the Hospital Wing. Cedric managed to make it look as though he had been holding a whispered conversation with Roisin, and had paid no attention whatsoever to the spirited discussion. "Mr Diggory."

With the events of just minutes ago, Cedric's gritted teeth and hard expression, no matter the cause, would be taken badly, so Roisin cut in. "He needed a few doses of Skele-Gro, Minister Fudge. It's a very painful process. Will this take long?"

Fudge looked a very tiny bit mollified. "Ah, of course. I merely wanted to say that the Presentation Ceremony will take place at the Leaving Feast. I will, of course, see you again there."

He promptly left, and Dumbledore moved to say something, but was interrupted by Ron. "That scumbag! Did you hear him? It's like he was trying to make out like Diggory was the only Champion to get the Cup!"

Hermione also suddenly looked worried, though Roisin wasn't entirely sure why. "Do you think he'll try that? Making it seem like Cedric was the sole winner?"

Cedric took on the same mulish expression he had worn in the maze, probably an attempt to convey that he thought that it was a tie between them, and would stick to that story, no matter what. Roisin sighed, fighting exhaustion. "He can't. Too many people saw that argument over who took the Cup in the maze, and saw you take the cup together, for anyone to buy that, and they've probably already sent owls home about it. Besides, he is only one judge, and all of them are Magically Bound to be truthful, so he can't just declare the winner all by himself."

That settled the issue, and Roisin was aware of Dumbledore telling Mrs Weasley that there was work to be done. Then Winky reappeared, with the rest of Roisin's Dreamless Sleep potion and a steely look that said Roisin was going to drink up whether she liked it or not. Already fighting a losing battle against the grasp of sleep, Roisin downed the goblet without complaint, and knew nothing more until she woke the next morning.

* * *

Dumbledore had apparently imposed some kind of ban from asking Harry what had happened, but by accident or design, forgot to mention anything of the sort in regards to Roisin or Cedric. The Slytherins were content with vague details, either knowing that Roisin would tell them in her own time, or already having heard the details from their older family members. Whatever their personal leanings, many of Roisin's housemates had at least one family member who had been a Death Eater (though one or two actually _had_ been under Imperious, or joined under pressure), and probably would have been warned about what had happened.

The Ravenclaws left her alone after the first time, as a group of Ravenclaw Third-Years had approached while Roisin was comforting Luna over missing possessions, including a necklace that had been her mother's, and asked why Roisin was hanging around with 'Loony Lovegood' when she has supposedly faced You-Know-Who.

Roisin had hexed them until they coughed up the missing possessions and said that she didn't waste her time talking to petty thieves, especially about anything important. If they couldn't be trusted around other people's property, then they probably couldn't be trusted with the truth of what had happened.

Cedric had the Hufflepuffs, so that left the Gryffindors and the two foreign schools. Roisin, still in the Hospital wing when Dumbledore had issued the gag order, pretended ignorance long enough to get the missed details out of Harry, then explained the whole thing to Yelena, Viktor and Fleur, letting them decide how much to tell their schoolmates.

She repeated the story to any of the Gryffindors who asked, along with a dire warning that anyone who spread rumours or tried to exaggerate the tale would be hexed until their own family would be hard-pressed to recognize them.

* * *

If there was one good part to the entire mess, it was the look on Dumbledore's face when he announced the return of Lord Voldemort three days before the end of the school year, the day before the Triwizard Presentation Ceremony and the Leaving Feast. Obviously, he had expected at least some surprised or worried muttering, not a general air of 'yeah, we knew that, quit the dramatic pause and get on with it'.

The Ceremony itself was elaborate, but faded slightly in the light of the recent events. Cedric and Harry took the smaller copies of the Triwizard Cup (the traditional prize, as the actual cup would traditionally stay in the Trophy Room of the winning school until the next Tournament) and five hundred Galleons each. Fleur and Viktor both received plaques that showed their participation in the Tournament (First, Second and Third Prize had less of a meaning when there were only supposed to be three participants in the first place) and fifty galleons prize money.

The Headmaster of each school gave a short speech – Yelena speaking in the place of the missing Professor Karkaroff, and Percy and Mr Bagman's personal assistant in the Ministry Judges' places – and there was a few hours to hold a small, more private, party in the Common Rooms before the feast.

Slytherin had won the House Cup, beating Ravenclaw by a slim margin. Roisin didn't envy the Ravenclaw Third Years, who were responsible for the last minute point deduction that allowed Slytherin to slip ahead. Luna's dorm-mates had gone to Professor Flitwick to get the hexes reversed and to complain. Roisin, called in to explain herself, stated that she had been helping a friend recover her stolen possessions, offered the memories to prove it, and mentioned that she was trying to convince Luna to press charges over the theft of a family Heirloom.

Professor Flitwick had not been pleased, and Roisin had heard from Parvati, who had heard from Padma (who had been ignorant and outraged at Luna's treatment) about the resulting House-wide Meeting/Scolding, Prefects on probation, and massive loss of House Points. Apparently, Professor Flitwick took a dim view on bullying.

Roisin wasn't sure how much good it would do, as Luna still, for some reason, refused to press charges or report them, but at least it was a start.

The journey back to London on the Hogwarts express was quieter than usual. Draco had bluntly informed everyone not to write to him until he wrote first, because he didn't know what would be happening. Roisin would have reported that to an Auror, but no one knew for certain yet if Voldemort _would_ be staying at Malfoy Manor, or somewhere out of sight, and it would be impossible to get a search warrant without clear proof.

Blaise and Millicent, both from Neuteral but dark-leaning families, were tense, wondering what was going to happen, and if they would even be returning, or if their parents would whisk them out of the country.

Roisin didn't know what would happen in England, but surely the O'Conner Keep would be safe, and whatever kept Harry safe at Privet Drive would protect her family as well, right?

When they departed the Hogwarts Express, Blaise was dragged away by his worried-looking mother before they had the chance for a quick kiss goodbye. Pansy and Draco were saying their own, rather more intense goodbye, and the group hug between the other three girls was perhaps a bit tighter than it usually was. If Roisin's hold was a bit almost desperate, or Millicent's grasp harder than was quite comfortable, no one mentioned it. Ironically, Desdemona was the calmest. "Don't worry. No matter what happens, we'll see each other again at Hogwarts, and we'll face things together. We always do."

Millicent gave them both a strained smile as she quoted, a recently acquired habit. "'_Focus on the now, because the past has been, and the will be, might not'_. We'll be fine."

Roisin smiled, leaning her head on Millicent's shoulder as she squeezed the hand of her hyperactive, occasionally ditzy, and very best friend. Desdemona was right. Whatever happened, would, and they would worry about it when it came.

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_A/N: OK, I'm probably going to get people complaining that Winky shouldn't have recovered so quickly, so I'll explain my reasoning. Winky is upset about being freed from the Crouch family, but she has accepted Roisin as her new not-quite-yet family, and was slowly recovering. Believe me when I say that when there is a death or the like in the family, the best thing for the family members is for them to be given something to do. Winky is upset and feeling like a failure that the boy she spent years loving and caring for just confessed to being a Death Eater and killing his own father. She has the opportunity to occupy herself by taking care of Roisin instead._

_Nearly six years ago, my twin drowned due to an epileptic seizure when she was in the water. My parents occupied themselves by alternating between throwing themselves into funeral preperations (Ceremony, cremation, wake, the details of accepting donations to her special needs class instead of flowers…) and fussing over me like you wouldn't believe. I slipped in the shower and banged my elbow, and five seconds later they were breaking down the door to see if I was alright, which should give you an idea._

_Winky needs something to do, and is promising herself that she will do a better job caring for Roisin than she did Barty Jr._


	63. The Storm Hits

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own it. Do we really have to go through this every time?_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO**

_The night air was thick with spellfire, making the graveyard seem almost as bright as day._

"_Kill the boy!"_

_Cedric dived out of the way, but was not fast enough. The bright green of the killing curse hit him, and he lay on the ground, eyes blank and staring into nothingness._

_Harry broke the golden link that connected Voldemort and himself, running, but was just a moment too slow. He went down under a hail of curses._

_Roisin was distracted for just a moment, and a Death Eater got in a lucky 'crucio!' Roisin fell, and screamed, and screamed, and…_

Roisin bolted upright in her bed, breathing hard, eyes wide from the all-too-vivid dream. Moments later, her grandmother burst in, wand drawn, and Roisin couldn't help a wan smile. "It's all right, Nana. Just night terrors."

Fionna nodded, but sat down on the bed next to her anyway. Roisin leaned against her and closed her eyes. It wasn't the first time her grandmother had kept vigil after a nightmare of the night Voldemort returned, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Roisin had scarcely been back at Privet Drive a day before Fionna showed up and whisked her away to the O'Conner Keep.

This had been an intense relief, and an escape from the way things were being handled in England. It was a great relief to hear the Clan's reactions (scornful disbelief) to the Ministry's attempted cover-ups and trying to blacken Harry and Dumbledore's names. It made Roisin even more thankful that she had taken the time to have a chat with various people at Hogwarts during the day of the Third Task, when the first slanderous article had come out.

Aiden had taken out a subscription to the _Daily Prophet_ partially to keep up with the situation in England (who would probably try to drag Ireland into it at some point, as they usually did), but mostly to point out and mock their attempts to act as though everything was normal.

Roisin also wrote to Harry often, considering he was stuck back on Privet Drive in a heat wave. She never focused on anything specific, but talked of everyday things, such as Aiden and Aoibhe's wedding, and the 'Stag Night' and the subsequent taunts from his siblings, or the new horse that Seamus was convinced was from the faery realm, since no-one could get close enough to even mount it, never mind get a saddle or bridle on it.

She also threw in the occasional amusing tidbit on whatever the Ministry trying to cover up that week. It was maudlin humor, but Harry deserved to know what was going on, and it seemed that no one else was telling him anything. Sirius tried, but apparently others had anticipated that, and weren't telling Sirius anything more than details of a mission, which, in the name of need-to-know, he couldn't pass on to Harry.

Harry seemed very glad for the correspondence, and also seemed rather put out, as neither Ron nor Hermione had sent so much as a 'Hello' yet, and Dumbledore seemed convinced that he needed to stay at Privet Drive for a few weeks (Sirius had told him to forget it, but Dumbledore's order had put Sirius and Harry in very bad moods. Roisin wasn't sure _how _that had happened, but she suspected a guilt-trip and/or blackmail). Roisin didn't speculate on that, but thought that the two had better have a very good reason for not writing.

She also wondered how her mother had reacted to the presence of a bear-like black dog skulking around while Harry was back with the Dursleys, causing nearly everyone to ask why she was wandering around with such a dreamy smile. Hey, imagining something like that took _detail_, so of course she was going to look like she had her head in the clouds while she perfected the image.

Meanwhile, there was riding, reading, various other activities (although everyone pretended not to notice that a large number of these activities managed to incorporate things like group tactics or fighting practice) and just spending time with family. Roisin wondered that she had never really appreciated just how much being with family soothed her, and resolved never to take it for granted again.

She also spent a significant portion of time writing to Cedric Diggory. He was in St Mungo's thanks to being hit with a Cruciatus Curse in the Graveyard. Madam Pomfrey had pronounced him to be in the clear, but also admitted that Unforgivable Curses were not her area, and his parents might consider getting a second medical opinion.

Madam Pomfrey was probably off Cedric's Christmas Card list, as his even-more-protective-than-they-usually-were parents had watched him like hawks from when he left the Hospital Wing. At the Leaving Feast which had doubled as the Triwizard Cup Presentation Ceremony, they had spotted some involuntary twitching as he and Harry walked up to claim the Prize, and carted him straight to St Mungo's the second the Feast was over.

All of the Ministry Higher-Ups seemed to be either pretending that Voldemort and the Graveyard either didn't happen, or treating the topic as the pink elephant in the living room. Even the two Aurors who had accompanied them seemed to be keeping silent, though how much of that silence was voluntary was up for question.

Since Harry was busy and out of contact with everyone except his closest acquaintances, and St Mungo's tended to keep visits limited to family whenever it was possible, Roisin thought that Cedric might like someone to talk to.

* * *

The relief and enjoyment ended abruptly, however, a few weeks into the holidays.

Sean Muldoon-O'Conner and his wife Sorcha had decided to take the younger Clan children on a day out on the Greater Clan Lands, to get away from the stress and tension, and were assisted by several teens who hadn't managed to escape before being forcibly recruited to help.

Erin was turning out to be even worse than the twins when it came to asking questions about Hogwarts, and if it meant escaping her cousin for a few hours, Roisin was happy to help. The others were not as enthusiastic, and Roisin knew for a fact that at least one of them was helping as an alternative to being grounded for some un-named transgression, but came anyway.

The little group was a few minutes past the wards, when their ramble was interrupted by several black-cloaked figures in white masks approaching them.

Sean and Sorcha immediately placed themselves in front of the others, taking a defensive stance. "You are trespassing on our land. Who are you and what do you want?"

The Death Eaters were either very new to this, or had a vast over-estimation of their own abilities, as they completely ignored the danger signs. "We are here on behalf of a rising faction in the British Isles. Lord Voldemort is proposing a new regime, and wishes to know if you will support him."

A universal way of getting onto someone's bad side is to treat them like a infant with no understanding of the world. The O'Conner Clan had been around during the First War with Voldemort, and several of them, including Fionna, had been active, though unofficial, participants in the fight against him. Both adults immediately drew their wands, gesturing for the teens to run as soon as the first curse was fired. "We know who Voldemort is, and we'll not be reduced to acting as groveling minions for an insane megalomaniac. Now leave here before we make you."

This appeared to upset the Death Eaters, for some reason. Roisin supposed that they were probably more used to people begging for their lives and doing whatever they said, rather than being told where to shove their offer. Unfortunately, they reacted with what seemed to be a favored curse. _"Avada kedavra!_"

There was a flash of green light, and Sean fell. Nearly all of the children and teenagers screamed in surprise and terror. Roisin shoved the smallest children into the arms of her fellow helpers and drew her wand. "RUN!"

There is an age-old saying that nothing is more dangerous than a mother protecting her young. A pity the Death Eaters had apparently never heard of it.

Sorcha's eyes blazed with murderous rage as she yelled at Roisin to get out of there, and then shot off a curse that Roisin didn't hear, but which caused the victim to explode. The lead Death Eater didn't look too pleased when Sorcha directed a large glob of his companion's entrails to cover his mask.

Roisin bolted after the rest of the group, acting as a rear-guard. Sorcha was standing her ground, seeming to know that she would be following her husband to the Summerland, not following the children home, and determined to make the most of her death. The next Death eater didn't dodge the overpowered scouring charm in time, and screamed as his skin was scrubbed away from his body. A fourth barely dodged the incineration curse and wound up covered with third degree burns. Sorcha was obviously feeling vindictive.

By now the rest of the ill-fated group was running for home. A quick glance behind showed Sorcha holding off the remaining Death Eaters with both wand and the dirk that she, and most of the other women, had started carrying after the news of Lord Voldemort's return.

They were only twenty yards from the wards, herding the smaller children with them. A final glance backward saw one of the remaining three Death Eaters act as cover while the other two aimed in tandem. It cost him his life, but was successful, as his companions hit Sorcha with the unmistakable green light of the Killing Curse.

Sorcha fell, and then the Death Eaters were chasing them again. Roisin had spent a great deal of time acting as a moving target when she was helping Harry train for the Third Task, specifically a moving target that fought back. If people ran from Death Eaters, instead of being paralyzed with fear and begging for their lives, they usually didn't fire well-aimed curses over their shoulders as they did so. Two of the other teenage helpers kept up a shield, though it wouldn't do much good against a Killing Curse.

They were still at least twenty-five meters from the Wards. In sheer desperation, Roisin shot a Reductor Curse into the path of the spell just as it left a Death Eater's wand. She staggered from the resulting explosion and backlash, but the Death Eaters, closer to the point of contact, were thrown off their feet. One managed to stagger upright, but the other lay still. Roisin threw her dagger at the still-mobile one, trying to buy time. Charmed and carved with runes to never miss the intended target, it buried itself in the dark wizard's heart. Roisin summoned it back to her hand, and then they were back behind the wards, and running toward the Keep, screaming for help.

* * *

It took several calming potions to get the full story in any measure of coherency, but when they did, things started happening very fast. Roisin and the rest of the young witches and wizards involved were promptly put to bed with a dreamless sleep potion to try to recover from the trauma, and therefore didn't hear about it until the next day, when she woke to see Fionna snoozing in a chair by her bed, having stayed with her through the night.

In stories, when people awake from a traumatic ordeal, they are generally fine, or have slept long enough for the trauma to at least partially reconcile itself. Roisin, however, was part of reality, and had barely opened her eyes before the events came rushing back. She had watched a friend die, engaged in a running battle for her life for the second time in as many months, and killed two people.

Fionna awoke just in time to conjure a bucket before her newly-awake granddaughter was spectacularly sick, throwing up everything she had eaten for at least a day, and then burst into hysterical tears.

Thinly-veiled fighting practice turned into mandatory lessons until everyone with a wand could defend themselves long enough to get away from a fight. No one left their homes without telling someone where they were going or at least leaving a note. Michael and Nessa were the only ones authorized to create Portkeys in or out of the Keep Wards.

A council was held a week after Sean and Sorcha's bodies were retrieved (the Death Eaters were stripped of masks, robes, and anything that might mark them as a wizard to any muggle that happened to stumble across them, then tossed into a bog.) and a memorial celebration held. Unprovoked attacks by people they didn't have a Blood Feud with were not and never had been tolerated. The death of two of their members would not pass without retaliation.

The O'Conner clan was joining the war against Voldemort.

* * *

Roisin really would have preferred to stay in Ireland for the remainder of the holidays, as she usually did, but with her legal guardian becoming the O'Conner Clan's representative to the Order of the Phoenix, seemingly the only people who didn't have their heads either up someone's backside or buried in the sand; it looked like the two of them, along with Mary, Seamus and Erin, who was starting Hogwarts after barely winning the argument on whether it would be safer for her to be home-schooled at the Keep, would be going back to England.

The Order Headquarters turned out to be in London, on a street called Grimmauld Place. The Order Headquarters also turned out to have been unused for a long time, (Sirius had been staying at the Leaky Cauldron while the details of his Trial and subsequent Pardon were worked out, then at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade when Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire) as it was absolutely filthy, and Roisin just knew that anyone without somewhere else to escape to after Order Meetings would be spending the rest of summer cleaning.

It wasn't all bad news, however. After a slight commotion while meeting Were-wolf Remus Lupin, (Fionna wasn't quite as open-minded as most of the Order on the topic, especially after hearing about the events of third year.) it turned out that Harry, Hermione and the entire Weasley family was also staying.

Harry, it seemed, hadn't quite forgiven Ron and Hermione for their total-lack-of-communication spell, even if they did claim it had been on Dumbledore's orders, especially since during the time Harry had been forced back to Privet Drive for a week or two, he and Dudley had been attacked by Dementors, resulting in a trial for use of Underaged Magic. That tibit of information had resulted in a shriek of rage that brought half the house running to their location, convinced that someone was being murdered, and a frantic letter to Privet Drive that Roisin only just remembered to send by regular post. Estranged or not, family was family, and Dementors were a serious matter.

The only bright side in the whole fiasco was that the distance between the Trio meant that Roisin got to spend time in actual conversation with Harry, without biased comments (everyone had biases, and Ron's was against all things Slytherin and/or anti-Chudley Cannons) and constant interruptions. It was during one of these conversations that a very interesting topic, that of the protection around Privet Drive, had come up.

"Apparently the wards are based on blood, mum's sacrifice, and no one knowing where I am. Something about considering a place where my mother's blood dwells my home."

For several moments, Roisin could only stare blankly. "I hate to say it, but I can't think of a single time that you have actually called Privet Drive your 'Home'. Don't take it personally, but we both know that Vernon and Petunia are reluctant to call it your home, too. Then, all it takes is someone finding out the location. We both know that Father would be more than willing to hand you over if someone just said that you would never be back."

Anyone who had observed the household before Harry left for Hogwarts could have told you that, and while Roisin's father might not have simply handed him over, he certainly wouldn't risk his life to rescue him, either. Harry was about to reply, but their hiding place had been discovered by Mrs. Weasley, who wanted them to help get rid of some doxy infestations. Roisin wished that she was back at the keep, where they had House Elves and Brownies to take care of this sort of thing.

There was some kind of etiquette about bringing your own House Elf to another person's house, and while Sirius probably wouldn't object, Roisin didn't even know if Winky could respond, or if she was bound to Hogwarts unless Dumbledore commanded her.

* * *

The conversation stuck in Roisin's mind, however, and an idea started to form, which she discussed with her grandmother later that night. It was largely obsolete, given that Harry had a legal guardian, but still. "Nana? I was talking to Harry earlier, and he said something about wards based on whether or not he could call a place where his mother's blood dwells 'home', and no one knowing where he was."

Fionna sniffed. "Security through Obscurity. It's a very flimsy kind of ward. In any number of cases, the wards fall when someone throws a temper tantrum and shouts about wishing they didn't live there, or drastically weaken if parents separate and one moves out. If the parent the wards are based on leaves or dies, then the wards are almost completely dependent on whether or not the child has siblings."

Roisin narrowed her eyes in speculation. "If Harry is forced to stay there when he has the option of living with people who care about him, there is going to be hell to pay, one way or another. On the other hand, Harry's mother was my Aunt Lily. If something went wrong and he couldn't stay here with Sirius, would the protection still hold if he stayed with me somewhere, since I carry some of his mother's blood?"

Fionna's lips curved into an almost evil smile. The O'Conner Clan hated Voldemort, but they didn't think all that much of Dumbledore, either, other than as a necessary ally. Getting Harry away from him would be a good thing, in their opinion. "I'll see what we can do about it. Now off to bed with you."

Roisin barely resisted the urge to whine like a four-year-old. But she was sharing with Hermione and Ginny! No-one wanted to share with a person who was constantly mooning after your cousin like a love-struck fan-girl and never wanted to talk about anything else, like Ginny! Roisin liked Hermione, but there were times that she could be nearly as bad, too, absolutely convinced that she always knew best and never letting anyone else get a word in. Honestly, there was a reason that Harry and Ron (and, on a more casual basis, Roisin) were Hermione's only friends; namely that no one liked having their opinions constantly dismissed and undermined.

Heck, Roisin would even take sharing with the clumsy Metamorphmagus, who tripped over everything and often broke something in the process, if it would get her away from sharing with the two Gryffindors.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Does no-one else think that the Blood Wards were a stupid idea? Harry repeatedly refers to Hogwarts as feeling like his home, and states that he would prefer living 'xxx' to Privet Drive even more frequently. He was willing to go with Sirius after knowing the man less than an hour! And that's only the beginning: The Dursleys could have moved house or left Harry on the streets or in an orphanage, like they so frequently threatened. Dumbledore clearly did no research on the Dursleys beyond finding out where they lived; what if the popular theory of one Evans girl being adopted was actually true? Why not just stick a Fidelius Charm on the place and Keep Harry inside as much as possible, which the Dursleys already do! _

_This chapter is really only a filler, but I'd appreciate hearing what people think. At last count, **The Dursley Witch** was on 181 Favourites lists and 186 Alert lists. Chapter sixty-two had 193 hits, yet only two reviews. Seriously, ten seconds to say if you liked it or if you thought it sucked, that's all I'm asking._

_OK, I'll be blunt. Harry Potter went seriously downhill after Goblet of Fire, so there will be several changes in how things work out. It will still be mostly the same, but there will be differences. Fanatic purists DON'T know where I live, so don't bother with threats of torch-and-pitchfork mobs._

_Thanks, Nat _


	64. Hearing and Cleaning

_Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, blah, blah, blah..._  
_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE**

Roisin was starting to wonder if bringing Mary and Seamus along had been such a good idea. Stuck inside, the O'Conner Twins were going stir-crazy, and had joined forces with the Weasley Twins in an effort to liven things up a bit.

Roisin had managed to avoid their antics so far, largely because she had taken the precaution of staring her cousins into submission until they promised not to prank her, but still harbored a nagging anxiety that it wouldn't be long before the Weasley twins decided to make up for their younger counterpart's lack of attention.

Between cleaning, hiding from Mrs Weasley nagging them about cleaning, homework and hiding from both sets of twins, Roisin started to form acquaintances among the Order Members who drifted in and out of Headquarters. Nymphadora Tonks was like Luna in that she was fun to be around, if you could overlook the occasional oddities, which in this case was a love of strange hair colours and chronic clumsiness.

Mundungus Fletcher was not such enjoyable company. He bore a very strong resemblance to a pile of rags that had been recently used to clean a cesspool, was constantly smoking a pipe that smelled even worse and filled the room with black smoke, and Roisin spent all of an hour with him before running upstairs to put the strongest anti-theft charms she knew on all of her belongings that held even the slightest monetary or sentimental value.

Fletcher might have a useful network among the less desirable elements of society, but he was also likely to sell his own mother if he thought he could make a profit. Some of Roisin's jewelry was centuries old, and the silver combs she had worn to the Yule Ball were Goblin-made silver, worth more than Roisin cared to think about. She even tracked down Kreature, the Black Family House Elf, long enough to suggest that he do the same with any Black Family Heirlooms that he didn't want to see end up on the Black-market.

She refused to feel sorry when Fletcher was found the next morning, covered in something that Roisin didn't want to identify and stuck upside-down to the wall across from the Silver Cabinet.

Cedric Diggory, fresh out of St. Mungo's Spell Damage LTC ward, was also a 'Junior Member', which he claimed was much less impressive than it sounded and essentially meant that he was let in on the less important meetings, and was otherwise drafted into cleaning duties. Harry and Cedric had started to form a loose friendship during last year's Triwizard Tournament, and Roisin had been writing to him earlier in the summer, along with Harry, Yelena and the rest of her friends, and she was now using the time to get to know him.

Yelena's letters spoke of her family, the new Headmaster at Durmstrang, and rumours and theories about what had happened to Professor Karkaroff. Desdemona's letters contained the usual note of cheerful hyperactivity, usually accompanied by a quick note from Theo, who was apparently spending a lot of time at Desdemona's house. Millicent's letters were more or less normal, but hinted at pressure on the various neutral families, which Roisin might be able to use to the Light Side's advantage. Pansy, Draco and the Human Bookends remained silent.

Conversations/letters with Blaise had been very stilted.

The stress on both of their parts did not help, and Roisin could not help a faint resentment that Blaise was visiting his extended family in Italy, far away from any trouble, while the rest of them were constantly worrying about Lord Voldemort's next move. Worse, Mrs. Zabini had apparently been making noises about how Blaise should find a nice English or Italian girl, preferably one who was not immediately related to the Ministry of Magic and the Dark Lord's top target.

She was couching it in terms like 'I don't want your heart broken when she sides with her cousin and becomes collateral damage', but the intent was clear.

Roisin had been (in her opinion justifiably) annoyed at this, though she had managed to stop herself from saying anything too unpleasant about her boyfriend's mother, no matter how tempting it was.

The real argument had occurred when Roisin had written to Blaise about the attack and the resulting move back to England, letting him know that further letters would have to be sent to a different drop box. Blaise had made the cardinal error of saying that she was alive and unscathed, so it couldn't have been quite as bad as Roisin had made it sound.

Being of the opinion that seeing two friends die, coming within a few seconds of getting killed yourself and being forced to kill another human being while in a running battle for your life did not count as 'unscathed', and that no, it wasn't that bad – it was worse, Roisin's reply could have been nicer. She had convinced Fionna to teach her the Howler Spell.

Blaise had returned an equally angry Howler, claiming that hers had arrived in the middle of a family dinner, and after seeing the draft of what he had written, every single one of his female relatives had sided against him on the matter. The nicest thing they had been calling him was an 'insensitive berk'.

Roisin retaliated with a sharp note, saying that if that many family members agreed on something, then maybe they had a reason or a point, and she wasn't going to continue the subject until they had both calmed down.

Blaise had ignored that, and reiterated the opinion that she was being melodramatic and unreasonable. All further correspondence from him (one Howler and one letter for the entire summer) was hit with a well-aimed _incendio_, despite Hermione's numerous lectures on the topic of using magic outside of school.

* * *

With Fred and George in residence and newly of age, meaning that they were able to use magic outside of school, Roisin had developed a habit of waiting until a meal was safely on the table before entering the dining room. Given the black burn down the length of the table and the spilled Butterbeer tonight, this had proven to be a wise choice more than once.

Conversation around the dinner table rarely changed from night to night. Most of the adults were discussing Order Business, Fred and George were talking with Mundungus, Tonks was (in Roisin's opinion) seriously abusing her Metamorph abilities by turning her nose into that of various animals, and Mrs Weasley was being possibly the worst house-guest that Roisin had ever encountered.

Honestly, Sirius was showing far more restraint than anyone had any right to expect, and far more than Roisin would have under similar circumstances. If anyone had been acting like that in Roisin's house, they would have been kicked out days ago.

Really, saying that Sirius was a poor guardian because he had been wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban for most of Harry's life, and saying that Mrs Weasley knew what was best for Harry because she had known and looked after him all of two summers and a train station during his Hogwarts years? Never mind that Sirius had known and loved Harry for fifteen months before that fateful Halloween, had known Harry's parents (and presumably, how they would have wanted their child[ren] raised) for even longer, and had risked the Dementor's Kiss for him.

Sirius had been gritting his teeth and putting up with it for weeks or months, for the sake of Domestic Harmony, but it was clear that he was by now on the verge of exploding and/or just throwing the Weasley family out until their mother learned the basic rules of courtesy towards One's host.

As interesting as that would be to watch, it would also be more than a little counterproductive, especially when it came to Order Meetings.

"Is now a good time to point out that 'Godfather and Legal Guardian' trumps 'Best Friend's Mother', do you think?" Roisin half-whispered to Cedric, not too worried about if Mrs Weasley heard her or not.

Mrs Weasley did hear her, and looked ready to blow. Cedric eyed the Weasley Matriarch with concern. "Probably not."

Roisin shrugged. "Either way, Sirius has a point. If Harry doesn't hear the solid facts from you, he's almost certain to get flawed- or half-truths from someone else. Besides, you've had him on a Communication Blackout, and he's likely to be a main target, so he actually does need to know."

Sirius and Harry clearly appreciated the back up, but Mrs Weasley looked livid. "And I suppose you'll want to know as well? You're as young as Harry and the others are! You've no reason to be included!"

Roisin had weathered her share of unreasonable rants, but there was a line. "Actually, I'm four months older than Harry, and not too young to have barely escaped a Death Eater attack only a few weeks ago." She shrugged. "I know I'm not ready to fight, and I don't mind if you tell me or not. I'll find out the basics anyway, if only because certain of my Housemates can't keep their mouths shut."

Moody suddenly looked interested. "You can get information out of some of your Housemates? The ones with Death Eater parents?"

Roisin shrugged again. "Probably out of those with only Dark-Leaning parents, too. Voldemort – oh, grow up! – doesn't treat his followers much better than his enemies, and the less-fanatical ones, or those smart enough to see the writing on the wall, would prefer not to join or become orphans. Draco isn't stupid enough to tell me anything directly, though he often lets too much slip when he's taunting someone, but Greg and Vince remember everything he tells them as a matter of self-preservation, and it's pathetically easy to get information out of them. Desdemona and Pansy might not act intelligent most of the time, but they are amazing at gathering gossip and sorting truth from exaggeration. So is Parvati, when it comes down to it, and Luna sees a lot more than some people think."

Sirius leaned forward. "So you could get information on Voldemort's movements? On what families are supporting him or could do with a visit from the Aurors?"

Roisin frowned. "Probably not that much. The Seventh-Years don't really talk to the Fifth-Years unless it involves Prefect duties, House matters, or schoolwork, and Voldemort knows that he'd face protest from even his most loyal supporters if he tried to mark anyone younger. I'm pretty sure I could get information on what families are supporting him, though, and which ones would be willing to switch sides or stay out of it, if you can make it worth the risk. I'll have to see where the lines are drawn before I can get a realistic idea of how much information I can gather."

Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow. "If we can make it worth the risk?"

Roisin would have thought that the reasoning behind that would be obvious, but clearly not. No wonder the Order hadn't been managing to do anything constructive lately. "Volde – oh, fine, the Dark Lord – was never shy about wiping out whole families for refusing him. Millicent Bulstrode has a Muggle grandparent, and lost family to the Dark Lord last time, but they don't have the power or means to stand up if push comes to shove. They would probably be more than happy to remain neutral if they believed that they would be kept safe."

* * *

All too soon, August 12th, the day of Harry's Hearing, approached. Roisin had bribed both sets of twins to create a distraction while she and Fionna snuck Harry out for a few hours, taking him to the Ireland equivalent of Diagon Alley for some new robes for his hearing. Harry would need all the help he could get, and while Amelia Bones was fair if it killed her, the rest of the judgment panel might not be, and there was no telling how many of them were in the Minister's pocket. Showing up in proper robes would be a lot better received than showing up in Muggle clothing or in the Hogwarts school uniform.

Roisin had been unable to sleep, and finally gave up at around one in the morning. She was sitting in the dining room with a mug of hot chocolate and a book on Wizarding Law (one of the Black Ancestors had been the Minister of Magic at some point, so the library had a large selection of Law and Politics books to choose from.), when Harry stumbled downstairs at a quarter to six, not far behind Sirius, Professor Lupin, Tonks and Mr and Mrs Weasley, who had so far been ignoring Roisin's presence.

Mrs Weasley leapt to her feet and hurried over to the stove, drawing her wand as she did. "Breakfast."

Tonks had gone for blonde and curly hair this morning, but still looked like the walking dead, letting out a jaw-shattering yawn every few seconds. "M-m-morning, Harry. Sleep all right?"

Harry mumbled a 'Yeah', which led Roisin to suspect quite the opposite, but no one else seemed to notice. Tonks yawned again. "I've b-b-been up all night. Come and sit down."

She pulled out a chair, nearly knocking Roisin off of hers, lack of sleep making the young Auror even more clumsy than usual.

Mrs Weasley was filling a plate by the stove. "What do you want for breakfast, Harry?" Mrs Weasley was a lot like Petunia, in that she relieved stress and showed affection through food. "Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?"

Harry really was nervous if he was only going to have toast for breakfast. Even Quidditch matches against Slytherin had him eating more than that. Roisin fixed him with a look. "You'll need something a bit more substantial, as well, Harry. You'll miss lunch, and there's no need to have you collapsing in the middle of your hearing."

Harry frowned at her, but reluctantly complied. "Fine. May I have some bacon and eggs, too, Mrs Weasley?"

Professor Lupin glanced at the two of them, before he returned his attention to Tonks. "What were you saying about Scringemour?"

Tonks looked like she was about to fall asleep in her porridge, but forced her eyes back open. "Oh… yeah… well, we need to be a bit more careful. He's been asking Kingsley and me some funny questions…"

Noticing that Harry was in jeans and a T-Shirt, Roisin darted upstairs to the boys' room, cast a Silencing spell on Ron, who was snoring louder than a airplane, and came back down with Harry's robes. "You need to make a good impression, Harry. Madam Bones won't care either way, but she won't be the only one on the judgment panel, and the others might not be so impressed by you showing up in Muggle clothing."

Madam Bones was Susan Bones' very formidable aunt, reputed to be stern but fair if it killed her, and the Law book that Roisin had been studying said that the Head of the DMLE was the inquisitor in most larger-offence Hearings.

Mr Weasley looked up from his own breakfast. "We're walking to the visitor's entrance of the Ministry of Magic in Muggle London. He can't go that way in robes."

Did Magically-raised people have no grasp of the blindingly obvious? Roisin held the robes out to Sirius. "Can you shrink these for me, please?" He obliged, and Roisin folded the shrunken robe and held it out to Harry. "Get Mr Weasley to un-shrink them when you get to the Ministry, then duck into a rest-room and change."

Harry gave a weak smile of thanks, and went back to poking his breakfast around the plate. Resisting the urge to poke _him_, Roisin went back to listening in on the various conversations. "…and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow. I'm just too t-t-tired." Tonks punctuated the statement with yet another jaw-shattering yawn.

"I'll cover for you," said Mr Weasley. "I'm OK, I've got a report to finish anyway." He turned to Harry, "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged.

Mr Weasley tried to be bracing. "It'll all be over soon. In a few hours' time you'll be cleared. The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones' office. She's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you."

"Amelia Bones is OK, Harry." Tonks said earnestly, stifling another yawn. "She's fair, she'll hear you out."

Harry nodded, but didn't relax. Sirius took his own, considerably more helpful, turn at speaking. "Don't lose your temper. Just be polite and stick to the facts."

Roisin had been going over the notes she had made. "You are allowed representation, too." She looked up, glancing around at the adults. "Is anyone taking care of that?"

Mrs Weasley looked up from where she was running water at the sink. "Dumbledore said he was taking care of it, I think."

Dumbledore, who hadn't even returned Harry's letters, much less spoke to him since the attack happened, was 'taking care of it'? Ministry Black-book number one was advocating a case for Ministry Black-book number two? Harry was doomed.

Roisin's response was perhaps fortunately cut off by Professor Lupin. "The Law's on your side. Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening circumstances."

Mrs Weasley was approaching with a wet comb, which anyone could have told her wouldn't work, when Mr Weasley checked his watch and stood up. "I think we'd better go now. We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off hanging around my office at the Ministry than hanging around here."

Harry dodged the Weasley Matriarch, putting down his toast as he got to his feet amid a last chorus of reassurance and encouragement, and followed Mr Weasley out of the door.

Roisin stood up, deciding that since there was nothing important to do that morning, she might as well give sleep one last try, but Mrs Weasley's voice halted her on the way out. "Roisin, since you're up, can you wake the others? We've still got quite a bit of cleaning to do. You have learned to handle a Boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts by now, haven't you?"

Roisin _could_, but would rather _not_ get glared at for waking everyone else up before seven a.m., get glared at even more because she was waking them up to clean, and then go deal with a damn Boggart. Oh, well, at least this way she got to choose the cleaning teams, and could stick Ginny and Hermione with each other, instead of risking one of them ending up with her.

* * *

Roisin and Cedric slammed the door to a room that had contained the Boggart. Thankfully, Roisin's Boggart had not changed, and was easy enough to get rid of, although if Cedric's twitching lips were anything to go by, he thought it was hilarious. "Nice dress, that."

Roisin glared at him. "Very funny. Try to remember what Boggart-Me did to the other people laughing at her."

Cedric shut up, though the smirk remained as he conjured a scrap of parchment to write a warning note about the Boggart and stuck it to the door and they moved on to the next room. The smell of mould and dry rot was enough to make Roisin turn what Cedric insisted was a very fetching shade of green (she glared at him again), and required an open window and several air-freshening charms before they could get to work.

Scrubbing at a particularly difficult stain and wondering how difficult it would be to get one of the Keep house-elves, or Winky, over here, Roisin decided that it had been quiet long enough. Desdemona had clearly rubbed off on her, if she was becoming nervous due to extended periods of silence. "So, how are Cho and your family doing?"

Checking to see that none of the adults were around, as Mrs. Weasley had a thing about cleaning the non-magical way, Cedric Vanished the dust piles that they had swept up. "Mum and Dad are fine. Dad's angry at the Minister for 'attempting to tarnish my good name'. He does own enough shares in the Daily Prophet to keep my name out of the rubbish they're printing, though. Cho, on the other hand…"

Cedric trailed off with a sound that she couldn't decipher, and Roisin looked up at his frustrated expression, rocking back onto her heels as she glared at the stain. "Wretched stain. Is there Trouble in Paradise?"

Cedric helped her to her feet and hit the stain with a powerful cleaning charm. "In a sense. You know how the Press has been hounding anyone who might possibly know anything about Voldemort's possible return?"

The Daily Prophet might be trying to shove it all under the rug and make it out to be the ramblings of a lunatic, but the lesser papers weren't. Several reporters had found themselves three miles offshore in the Atlantic Ocean when they tried to breech the O'Conner wards without permission. "I've had a couple of Owls from several papers. I was planning on talking to Harry about giving an interview to a paper that isn't connected to the Ministry. I figured it would be better to wait until after the hearing, because Harry has been fretting over it, and this way it's on Official Record that he was called in for a hearing over an act of self-defense."

Cedric frowned. "That isn't a bad idea. I'm not talking to the Prophet because of Rita Skeeter and the fact that they get censored by a Ministry Representative before it goes to print. Anyway, Cho was getting harassed by people, Press and non-, who were convinced that I told her literally everything just because she was my girlfriend and the pressure was really getting to her."

Ouch. Holding your own as a Slytherin and trying to keep your grades near the top made you very good at withstanding pressure, but seeing reporters every time you turn a corner would have to be tough. "Oh, dear. She couldn't take it anymore?"

Cedric shrugged. "I don't know. Thing is, Cho's family own a chain of shops, and Cho helps out in the summer. When the Diagon Alley store became so crowded with reporters that it started driving away the genuine customers, Mr Chang put his foot down. Long story short, we're no longer together."

Again, ouch. Roisin had to feel sorry for Cho, if she had to choose between her boyfriend and her family because of reporters. "If it's worth anything, you have my sympathies."

They worked in silence for a little while, but when the next room was ankle-deep in dust and mold, Roisin put her foot down. "Bugger all this for a lark! Winky!"

The little House Elf appeared in an instant, latching onto Roisin's leg in an adoring hug. The skirt and blouse from Mr Crouch had been replaced by the white-trimmed green dress Roisin had given her last year, which was still meticulously clean. "Miss Roisin, ma'am is calling Winky! Winky is happy to see Miss Roisin again! What can Winky do for Miss?"

Roisin elbowed Cedric, who was looking a bit too amused again, before he could say anything to discourage her. "Hello, Winky. This house has been empty for years, and we could use a bit of help cleaning. Nothing you hear of in the house can be repeated to anyone other than me or Dumbledore."

Winky nodded furiously and shooed the two students out of the door. "Miss Roisin and Mr Diggory are not to be cleaning any more. That is being Winky's job now."

Freed for the afternoon, Roisin and Cedric wandered away, keeping a lookout for any adults or Hermione. Harry was due back soon, and Roisin wanted to hear what had happened. "Do you really think that it's a good idea to bring in a strange House Elf? She is wearing clothes, so she isn't bound to keep our secrets, and that could be very bad if the wrong people found out."

Roisin shook her head. "Winky is employed at Hogwarts, which means she answers to Dumbledore. You remember the House Elf in the Hospital Wing after the Third Task?" A hastily-muffled snicker confirmed that Cedric did remember, and Roisin shot him a quick glare. "I already promised her that she can be my elf as soon as I turn seventeen, so she'll keep whatever secret I ask her too."

* * *

As it turned out, Harry had been cleared, but not before the Hearing was moved forward several hours and snowballed into a full trial before the Wizengamot. Most of the Order and various guests were relieved that Harry was cleared, but Roisin, Fionna, Sirius and a few of the more sensible others were not happy.

Roisin was even less happy with Dumbledore than she usually was. He was supposed to be at the Trial to defend Harry, not to annoy the jury by making allegations and insisting that Voldemort was back! Regardless of whether they were true or not, badgering the Minister with things he didn't want to hear, and which were bound to put him in a bad mood could have waited until _after_ Harry was cleared!

If it hadn't been for casting a Patronus and several of the Wizengamot being related to Hogwarts students, and therefore having second-hand reports of Harry's knack of attracting trouble, Dumbledore's actions could have made things go very badly.

Roisin was still fuming about the Trial when the rest of the household discovered Winky the next morning at breakfast, thanks to a very loud confrontation between Kreature and Winky.

Winky insisted that Kreature was a worse House Elf than Dobby (very harsh criticism), for neglecting 12 Grimmauld Place like he had and that his family should be ashamed of him.

Kreature replied that at least he had never been freed.

Winky took a groin-shot by saying that the only reasons behind that were that his mistress was dead and his new master didn't trust Kreature not to betray his secrets.

Sirius, who had joined the others in watching as though it were some kind of bizarre entertainment, stepped in at that point, sending Kreature to clean out the attic. Winky, however, he didn't know what to do with. Roisin, who had come down the stairs half way through the quarrel but knew better than to get in the middle of a fight between House Elves, took over. "Winky, could you clean up the dishes in the kitchen? I think some of them are starting to develop intelligent life."

Winky bowed happily, "Yes, Miss Roisin ma'am."

She disappeared, and Roisin braced herself for Hermione's outrage.

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* * *

_A/N: OK, I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to Weasley-bash. Maybe it's just my own upbringing, but I always found Mrs Weasley's treatment of Sirius to be totally unacceptable. Before people start complaining that I'm being unrealistic, let me say that I know someone who actually was thrown out of their host's house for the same kind of behavior._

_Question for everyone: Should I write a newspaper article in the next chapter or so, or wait until Hermione or someone else makes Harry give an interview to the quibbler?_

_Thanks, Nat_


	65. Summer Showers

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of discussion.  
Summary: See Previous Chapters.  
_

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR**

Harry could be hard-headed, but he usually listened when Roisin had an idea or suggestion. Of _all_ the times for him to decide to be stubborn and dig his heels in…

In all fairness, he did have a point that it would be better for him to be back at Hogwarts and out of Ministry reach before he tried to speak out, but still.

Well, even if Harry' circumstances were going to make things difficult, that didn't mean that Roisin couldn't do anything. The _Daily Prophet_ might have been unofficially changed to the _Ministry Mouthpiece_, but there was still _The Quibbler, Witch Weekly_ and any number of Irish newspapers.

An owl to Uncle Michael and Aunt Nessa, making sure that she was allowed to share the story of the Attack, was promptly dispatched, and Roisin tracked down Cedric and Tonks to see if they would be willing to contribute. Sirius certainly would, and he was widely considered to be the unofficial authority on Ministry of Magic-related screw-ups.

_Witch Weekly_ were reluctant to print the story, because the Ministry were in a position to shut them down if they wanted to, but family-owned _The Quibbler,_ the lesser-known but still regionally-popular the _Highlander's News _and the _Wales Today, _along with the Irish_ The Celtic Times,_ and the _Dublin Daily_ came through with bells on.

_The Quibbler_, having a smaller paper, only had room for one article, though they were sure to put it on the front page, and promised to save room for more in next month's edition.

_MINISTRY FUDGE-UP!  
DENY EVIDENCE AND REFUSE TESTIMONY! TRIAL BEFORE WIZENGAMOT FOR A CASE OF SELF-DEFENCE!_

_Last year, the British Ministry of Magic demonstrated its wonderful capacity for incompetence at the Quidditch World Cup._

_Now, they are trying to out-do themselves again, by burying their heads in the sand and ignoring the danger of a returned Dark Lord._

_Many will remember the rise of the Dark Wizard colloquially known as You-Know-Who, defeated by a fifteen-month-old Harry Potter almost fourteen years ago._

_Knowing that there was a possibility of You-Know-Who returning, one would expect the British Ministry of Magic to start beefing up their Auror force and planning for emergencies. Instead, they are ignoring the testimony of several eye-witnesses and leading a smear campaign against those witnesses most likely to be believed, Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. Auror eye-witnesses to You-Know-Who's resurrection have been threatened into silence._

"_I told my superior about what happened in my weekly report," says Nymphodora Tonks, Auror Trainee. "Not two hours later, I'm being summoned by the Minister's Senior Undersecretary, who tells me that if I don't retract my report, she'll see me fired and on the employment Blacklist before the day was out. My report was already on record, and Madam Bones has the final say on who's employed or fired in the Auror Office, but it says a lot when they're willing to threaten you outright to cover up the truth."_

_Cedric Diggory, co-winner of the recent Triwizard Tournament, also witnessed the event. "The Ministry tried to pay me a visit, too, saying that I shouldn't go around spreading malicious lies if I didn't want to be charged, when I hadn't even said anything about it yet. I was in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Illnesses at the time, though, and the Healers threw them out. But threatening a student just because they __might__ say something?"_

_Harry Potter, witness to You-Know-Who's resurrection, was unavailable for comment, though sources suggest that all is not all that it seems. _

_On August 12__th__, Mr Potter was summoned to appear before the Wizengamot on charges of using Magic in front of a Muggle. The Muggle in question was Mr Potter's cousin, and the spell a Patronus Charm, a spell known to be used in protecting one-self from Dementors and Lethifolds. _

_Instead of drawing the obvious conclusion – that Harry Potter was defending himself and his cousin – the Ministry of Magic sent a notice of expulsion, summoning Mr Potter to appear at the Ministry of Magic for a Diciplinary Hearing. _

_Upon the day, at 8:05 a.m., the time was changed from 12 O'clock in the afternoon, to 8 O'clock in the morning, perhaps to prevent Mr Potter from attending – and being able to defend himself – at all, possibly giving cause for further penalty by reason of missing a court summons. _

_The Disciplinary Hearing was further upgraded to a trial before the full Wizengamot, far beyond what would be called for in the case of a simple Misuse of Magic offence, if indeed there even was an offence, as the Muggle involved was already aware of magic._

_This raises the question: What attacked Mr Potter and his cousin, when Lethifolds are more commonly found in tropical areas, and why would the Ministry go so far to cover it up?_

_Other questions are also raised in an interview between reporter_ Sarah Murphy_ and Mr Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather and legal guardian, who spent twelve years as an innocent prisoner of Azkaban, again due to Ministry of Magic incompetence._

_SM: Thank you for agreeing to meet with us today, Mr Black._

_SB: Sirius, please. Mr Black makes me look around for my dad._

_SM: Sirius, then. Getting straight to the point, how do you feel about recent events in England?_

_SB: About the return of [You-Know-Who] – oh, stop flinching; it's only a name! – or about the Ministry of Magic trying to cover it up?_

_SM: Let's start with the Ministry. Why would they try so hard to deny You-Know-Who's return? _

_SB: Well, obviously most of us remember how it was fourteen years ago, so it makes sense that they don't want to think about the possibility of [You-Know-Who] coming back, but I can't agree with their decision to ignore the threat and discredit those who might be believed. Sticking their fingers in their ears and humming loudly won't work, and pretending it isn't happening only gives [You-Know-Who] more time to prepare. When he's ready, he'll hit us hard, and we'll be totally unprepared._

_SM: What do you think about the return of You-Know-Who?_

_SB: My primary concern is to keep him away from my Godson. Harry defeated him last time, so he's going to be a priority target this time. I'm scared, I won't deny that. The last war cost me many friends, including the man I thought of as a brother, James Potter. His and Lily's deaths nearly destroyed me, would have if I didn't find out that Harry was still alive._

_SM: What part do you think you'll play in the probable conflict._

_SB: Ignore the Ministry when they say that I'm not as innocent or sane as people think and try to pin all the mysterious happenings on me. Fight as hard as I can when [You-Know-Who] finally comes out. Support my Godson, because Harry's going to need all the friends he has, what with all the people who just blindly believe the Prophet._

_SM: Thank you for your time today, Mr Black._

_SB: My pleasure. It's nice to know that there are some papers and reporters out there willing to tell the truth._

_The Celtic Times_ and the_ Dublin Daily _went a step further, running the first article, and following up with a second story on what had happened near the O'Conner keep. Not even Voldemort's most ardent supporters would condone an attack on children, and perhaps people would stop seeing Death Eaters as invincible.

_DEATH EATER ATTACK: ARE OUR DAYS OF PEACE OVER?_

_These are not the only blunders or ignored events that the Ministry of Magic has attempted to cover up. Only weeks ago, Death Eaters led an attack on our very own shores, when a daily outing for the children of the O'Conner Clan took a deadly turn._

_Roisin O'Conner, a student at Hogwarts, maternal cousin to the Boy-Who-Lived, and eye-witness to You-Know-Who's return, was part of a sixteen-person group, only five of whom were over the age of nine, and only two of those out of their teens._

"_We were on a ramble," says fifteen-year-old Miss O'Conner. "You know, a walk in the countryside to give the parents a break. Not five minutes past the wards, though, and we run into a group of people in black robes and white masks, who say that they serve [You-Know-Who] and expect our Clan to support and finance them."_

_Aislinn O'Conner, a thirteen-year-old member of the group, took up the tale. "Sean and Sorcha [Muldoon-O'Conner] laughed in their faces, of course. They thought it was a bad joke or a bunch of hooligans trying to be clever. I mean, going up to a Clan who don't take orders from anyone but themselves, and certainly not some jumped up Brit, and saying that they expect our support and would be taking our Clan's children as insurance? Who'd be brainless enough to think that would work?"_

_Miss Roisin continued. "They weren't joking when they threw a Killing Curse at Sean, though. Sorcha yelled at us to get the kids out of there, and took them on herself. It was one of the bravest things I've ever seen."_

_Twelve-year-old Finn Dubh-O'Conner finishes the story. "Sorcha took down four of them before the last two got her with a Killing Curse, then they came after us. Roisin got one of them with a dirk, and blew up the ground in front of the last when he was lining up a killing shot. Then we got back behind the wards, and that alerted the grown-ups back at the Keep."_

_Michael O'Conner, current Head of the Clan, had this to say. "I'm very proud of my kin. They did what was right, protected each other despite the risk. I don't know if the Death Eaters will try again, but if they do, they'd better bring their own coffins, because we won't sit and pretend it isn't happening. We'll fight back."_

_Pensive memories of You-Know-Who's resurrection and the attack on the O'Conner Clan can be found on page 3. Parental guidance is recommended for those viewers under the age of sixteen, and those with a nervous disposition are discouraged from viewing._

Of course, the last sentence would practically guarantee viewing by everyone who read the paper, but perhaps that was the idea.

The two Irish papers had even paid for the stories to be translated into several other languages and for several of their people to set up as street vendors in various Magical locations for a week, all over Europe.

The ones in the British Ministry of Magic lasted all of two hours before the Minister found out and had them ejected. Since they had sold at least forty papers at that point, and it had really just been an experiment on how long it would take for Fudge to find out, the vendors came out of it smirking.

* * *

Fionna made sure that Dumbledore and Mrs Weasley were pre-occupied, then whisked Harry away to the O'Conner Keep for a week, to see if Roisin's theory about sharing blood with Harry was any good. They left a letter with instructions to use Professor Snape as a test, and from Sirius's gleeful reply, detailing the Potions Master's fury, it was a success.

They remained there for a week, anyway, to give Harry and Roisin a measure of un-interrupted time to spend together, away from England and their other friends.

Harry quite clearly appreciated being included in the training, glad that _someone_ was willing to help prepare him for his next encounter with Voldemort. Roisin did find it a bit amusing when he tried to comfort Aislinn, who was having even worse night terrors than Roisin was, and somehow ended up promising to write her when he went back to Hogwarts, so that she could compare Hogwarts to Homeschooling.

Aislinn was two years younger than Harry, but she could relate to him, and didn't care about the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' rubbish. If Roisin had any interest in matchmaking (beyond gossip and teasing between friends, anyway), she might have considered it a good future pairing, when both were older and a bit more mature. Either way, it would be good for Harry to be able to write to someone outside of Hogwarts, and whose opinions wouldn't be coloured by House or prior knowledge of the insane events that followed Harry around on a regular basis.

* * *

Despite it's aura of Doom and Gloom, Grimauld Place was very cheerful this morning. The Hogwarts Letters had arrived, and three of the Fifth-Years had just found out that they would be prefects for the following three years, along with the announcement of Cedric's appointment of Head Boy.

Hermione's appointment surprised no-one; Parvati might have been more approachable, but Hermione's grades and the respect given by being part of the Golden Trio had made her a shoo-in since her first year.

Cedric's appointment was also not that shocking. Possessed of the stereotypical Hufflepuff work-ethic, Tri-Wizard Champion, and generally well-liked, he was an obvious choice. If you looked up the school records, there were half again as many Head Students from Hufflepuff than any other House. Slytherin came next, with it's member's ambition to be the best, two Head boys and five Head Girls ahead of Gryffindor, who did turn out some fairly good students every once in a while. To the amusement of anyone who cared to look, Ravenclaw had the fewest Head Students, often to involved with their own studies to want the added responsibility of Head Boy or Girl.

For Roisin, it had not been so much a question of worth, as whether Pureblood Politics would interfere with the appointment. Even so, Roisin had been fairly confidant about her chances. Although relatively unknown, and without the many connections to make life difficult for those who objected, Professor Snape was nothing if not practical, and would appoint who he felt was best.

Of the Slytherin Fifth Years, most people thought that Pansy would merely second Draco in everything, which would not work when there were supposed to be two prefects in order to have two separate opinions. In actual fact, it was more that Pansy was easily persuaded by those she cared about, but that was not the point. Of the other two, Millicent had already stated that she did not want the responsibility, and everyone, teachers and students alike, shuddered at the idea of Desdemona in a position of power. Roisin was quiet, but had excellent grades, and was at least respected in not only Slytherin, but with a few of the other Houses.

The third appointment had surprised everyone, even the new Prefect's own family. Roisin wondered what alternate universe she had stepped into where Ron Weasley was a Hogwarts Prefect. Roisin had nothing against him personally, largely due to a lack of interaction, but she was sure that you needed to maintain a certain grade average, both in class work and tests, to become a Prefect; an average that Ron seldom reached unless Hermione was in a mood to help him.

Further, he was not what one would call 'even-tempered'. He _was_ often impatient, and did not deal well with non-Gryffindors, which did not bode well for Prefect Meetings, Patrols, or arranging things that necessitated working outside just your House. This was not to say that Ron was deliberately provocative, merely that he failed to understand or appreciate the qualities that the other Houses displayed or valued, and that attitude rubbed said other Houses very much the wrong way.

Roisin was not Professor McGonagall, but out of all the Fifth Year Boys, Ron was the last she would have chosen. Harry got in a bit too much trouble every year to be considered as a Prefect, although it was not always his fault and the same could be said for Ron, but that still left three others. Perhaps not Neville, who, while steadfast and fairly respected, was uncertain of himself and did not have the best grades outside of Herbology, but Seamus or Dean could have done quite well, if they wanted. Ron's appointment just made no sense.

Harry looked disappointed, but did not make an issue of things, as Ron may well have. "Congratulations, Roisin. Who is the other Prefect for your year? Malfoy? Zabini?"

Roisin managed to extract herself from Mary and Erin's enthusiastic congratulations long enough to reply. "Draco. Blaise was rather apathetic about the whole thing, and Theo didn't want the extra responsibility in his OWL Year. If Vince or Greg made prefect, everyone would be screaming about Confounding or Imperious Curses. The Female Prefect was a toss-up between me or Pansy."

Harry smirked, looking distinctly cheered. "So Malfoy wasn't 'Best Choice' so much as 'Lack of Better Options'? That actually makes me feel a lot better."

Fionna was contratulating Roisin over her new badge when the post box (corresponding to the drop box for all incoming mail to be screened) '_ping'-_ed, signaling incoming mail. Reaching in as Fionna went to tell the twins and send a note to all of her old friends (Roisin would write the O'Conner Keep herself), Roisin pulled out a bright pink envelope: a Whisperer.

The Whisperer Spell was an off-shoot of the Howler Spell, invented by a wizard who had lost both arms in an accident and could no longer open his own mail. It worked like a Howler, in that it used the writer's voice, but at a normal volume, and could record more than one person per letter, and didn't need to be written, something like a dicta-quill.

Given that Hogwarts letters had just arrived, Roisin had a fairly good idea of who had sent it, but the smell of Lunch was calling, so she carried the Whisperer downstairs with her. She passed Ron and Mrs Weasley, who was apparently calling everyone she knew about Ron's new-and-unfathomable appointment, and entered the dining room. Hermione looked up from her own letters, where she looked to be writing to her parents and relatives, if the Muggle stationary was anything to go by. "Oh, you got a Whisperer? I've never seen one of those before, but I've read all about them. Who's it from?"

Roisin shrugged. "From my Year-Mates, most likely." She looked around the room. "Does anyone mind if I open it down here?"

No-one did, so Roisin broke the seal, and the air was filled with Draco cheering about being a prefect. Everyone else blinked in surprise at the idea of Draco producing any sound that wasn't a sneer or an insult, but Roisin only smiled indulgently, her grin changing to one of amusement as other voices joined in. Pansy's voice was a little cool, but that was to be expected. "Obviously, Draco made Prefect. Millicent, Desdemona and I haven't received anything, so I suppose I should congratulate you, too. Hey -!"

She was cut off by Theo's voice, considerably warmer. "Don't mind Pansy, the rest of us – " he was interrupted by another cheer from Draco, "- oh, for – will someone _please – _"

There was a cry of '_Petrificus!'_ in Desdemona's distinctive tones, and a thump and an indignant yell from Draco. Desdemona's voice took over, above Theo's muttered thanks. "Hi Roisin! Millie floo-called, and said that she sends her congratulations, too. She'd be here, too, but her parents don't want her leaving the house until the wards are re-done. Anyway, write back soon! I want to know how you are doing after the attack, and don't try to gloss over it! I'm your best friend, and I'll know!"

Draco's voice took over again. "Wait, what attack? Why – never mind, of course it wouldn't be in the _Daily Prophet._ Are you all right? Father is still angry about Potter getting off at the Trial, so send your letter to one of the other girls. Theo is practically living at Desdemona's anyway, and Blaise is mad at you for some reason, but he won't say why."

The letter closed and fell back down onto the table. Everyone looked at it oddly, as if surprised at the concept of Slytherins acting like normal kids. It wasn't like Slytherins weren't people too, after all. Sirius broke the silence. "That was… unexpected. Is that a standard sort of conversation for you?"

Roisin shrugged. "Desdemona being hyperactive, Draco trying to direct the subject onto himself, and Theo being sardonic? More or less. It usually takes longer for someone to do something to shut Draco up, and Millie would have made a smart remark if she had been there. But if her parents aren't letting her go anywhere, that means you're almost certainly safe in approaching the Bulstrodes."

Picking up a sandwich, she turned to go back upstairs. "I'd better write back, before they go completely around the twist. Maybe we can set up a Diagon Alley date."

Mrs Weasley entered at that moment, followed by a very relieved Ron. "Don't be foolish, dear. It's far too dangerous for any of you to be out of the house right now, certainly not in Diagon Alley! Just give me your lists, and we'll send an Order Member to pick them up."

_Yeah… no._ "Death Eaters are hardly about to attack me when half of my companions are their children. Besides, I need to pick up a few supplementary texts, as well, and stock up on some of my Potions Ingredients, and several other things. Besides, Voldemort doesn't want to tip his hand yet, so I doubt he'll launch an attack in the middle of London in broad daylight."

Roisin left Mrs Weasley spluttering in indignation behind her, and sat down at the desk in her shared room.

_'Dear Desdemona,  
__Explaining Blaise to Draco, and the details of the attack, would take up far too much space for a single letter, so I'll tell you next time we meet. Have you gone to get your supplies from Diagon Alley, yet? If not, how does tomorrow or the day after, sound?_

_Looking forward to seeing you again,_

_Roisin_

* * *

Mrs Weasley didn't get the chance to call Dumbledore to stop them, though she did try to lay down the law with the children. Roisin's point stood, however, Hermione was not under her authority, and Sirius over-ruled her on Harry's behalf. Mary, Seamus, Erin and Fionna would join them in shopping, while Roisin went with her year-mates.

Roisin was not offended when Pansy, Greg, Vince and Draco kept their distance on the trip to Diagon Alley, though it was a little upsetting that the impending War had taken root so quickly that they had to be so careful with appearences. Still, Millicent and Desdemona brightened things up with an enthusiastic greeting that more than made up for it.

Blaise was back from Italy, which made for a bit of a tense atmosphere while they stopped at Flourish and Blotts for a few supplementary texts for their elective subjects, as well as _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 _and_ Defensive Magical Theory_. Since the line was short, they were in and out in a matter of minutes, at which point the awkward silence resumed, until Draco loudly announced that he needed to visit Madam Malkins for new robes and perhaps they should split up.

Desdemona agreed, saying that Theo had promised her a trip to the Ice-Cream shop, and Millicent claimed that her parents wanted her to pick up some things from the apocethary, which Greg and Vince would be helping her carry.

Roisin could see the writing on the wall at this point, and was reminded yet again why she was friends with Draco and Pansy when the other girl said that she would accompany Draco, but added that "I'm sure Blaise won't mind keeping you company until we return, will you, Blaise?"

The glare Pansy added to the not-request clearly stated that she didn't care whether Blaise minded or not, he was still going to keep Roisin company. Roisin couldn't help a brief smile as they watched the rest of their year depart. A bit stiffly, Blaise offered his arm, and Roisin just as stiffly took it. "So… how was your trip to Italy?"

Blaise raised a sardonic eyebrow. "That's your best conversation starter? Aside from my female relatives glaring at me for a week, it was nothing unusual. I swear, though, Mother must have introduced me to every young lady in Tuscany! I was mumbling polite nothings in my sleep!"

Roisin giggled, almost back on familiar grounds. "I suppose I should apologize for sending you that Howler. I wasn't in a very good frame of mind at the time, and it has been more than a bit stressful lately."

Blaise didn't quite squirm as he made his own apology, but it was close. "I can imagine. I should have been more considerate of what you went through, rather than dismissing it as an over-reaction."

Roisin smiled. "Well, you were wrong, and I was wrong, and it's done with now. Shall we move on?"

She was glad to try and put this behind them as Blaise returned the grin, more than willing to drop the issue. "Wonderful idea. I hear that you were chosen as the Fifth-Year Girls Prefect…"

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* * *

_A/N: Another chapter up! Those articles were harder to write than I thought. FF.n is screwing up the formatting a bit, no matter how many times I go over it, so apologies for that._

_Not sure when the next chapter will be, but I'll try not to take long._

_Thanks, Nat_


	66. Train Rides and Prefects

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Subject closed._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE**

Dumbledore had not been pleased when Mrs Weasley had told him about Roisin's recent actions, and had managed to corner her for a 'chat'. Apparently, if was for the Greater Good that Roisin stopped thinking for herself and questioning his judgement when it came to all things Harry. She should also stop protesting and obey Mrs Weasley when it came to all things to do with 12 Grimmauld Place.

Roisin did not meekly agree, as he had obviously expected, but pointed out that Mrs Weasley was not her guardian, nor the owner or even chatelaine of Number 12, and therefore had no authority over Roisin beyond what Fionna or Sirius were willing to give her. Besides, as far as she was aware, having your own opinions and acting on them was not a crime.

Dumbledore conceded the last point, but said that the kidnapping of a minor _was_ a crime, so she and Fionna could be charged over it. Read: _I didn't tell you to take Harry to the Keep, or give you permission to test the Blood Wards. Don't do it again, or else._

Actually, they couldn't be charged, as Harry had come of his own free will, Sirius had given permission, and the Ministry, with very few exceptions, would probably prefer it if Harry had been kidnapped, or better yet, dropped off the face of the planet.

Since all of those facts were true, Dumbledore couldn't do much more than strongly imply that she was a bad influence that should be removed from the vicinity of innocent children, (again, Sirius's call, and also applicable to the Weasley Twins), threaten to remove her prefect badge, and stalk away.

Roisin wasn't worried. Dumbledore might have a certain amount on influence on who was chosen as a Prefect (which probably explained Ron's appointment) but once the badges were sent out, he couldn't do anything without an excellent reason, and would have to explain his action and choice of replacement to the School Board, first. 'Because she refused to bow to my influence' would not count as an acceptable reason, as far as the governors were concerned.

As for being a bad influence, it hadn't bothered anyone for yet, for the four years she had attended Hogwarts, so it wasn't likely to be in issue now. Besides, Roisin preferred to have 'foul-weather' friends, so anyone who decided to cut her because the Headmaster disapproved of Roisin's personal opinions was hardly a loss, as far as she was concerned.

* * *

As Roisin had expected, becoming a prefect was enough to break the non-pranking period.

She woke up late, her alarm having been turned off, and headed for the newly-cleaned shower. Even Winky could only work so fast, with Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Kreature getting in her way. Besides, she still had duties at Hogwarts, even if they were somewhat reduced in comparison to the other Elves.

The walls had an Obscuration charm to stop any accidental peeking, but that didn't stop people from manually picking the lock and sneaking in to abduct her clothes while she was in the shower. Roisin was not pleased when she stepped out and reached for her underwear, only to find it missing. Her night dress was pale blue cotton, and also suddenly missing, but at least the towel rack had an ever-filling charm.

The Slytherin Girls Dorm had the same charm, for the frequent occasions when someone decided to use up two towels after washing their hair, and would have otherwise left one girl short of a towel. Pansy held the top position of using two towels, but Roisin was also frequently guilty, as her hair reacted badly to drying charms. Wrapping a towel around herself, she double-checked to make sure that the hall was empty, bolted down the corridor, turned a corner… and bumped straight into Cedric.

He automatically reached out to catch her, then noticed the lack of clothing and quickly retracted his hands, spinning around to look the other way. Roisin caught a vivid flush on his cheeks as she rushed to explain. "Someone nicked my clothes while I was in the shower. I'll hunt the twins down later."

Cedric still wasn't looking at her. "Do you need an escort to get to your rooms? I mean, to make sure you don't run into anyone else?"

It was Roisin's turn to blush. "I'll be fine; my room is only a few doors down. I'd appreciate if you could track down the twins and get my robes back, though. I liked that set."

Roisin wasn't sure if she should be amused or offended at the speed with which Cedric left. She put that thought aside in favour of plotting revenge.

* * *

All too soon, it was September 1st, and Roisin awoke to the sound of Mrs Weasley shouting at everyone, and Winky muttering darkly about hypocrites as she double-checked that Roisin had not forgotten anything. Apparently, Mrs Weasley had refused to let Winky be involved in packing her children's trunks, and was still arguing about who got to do the cooking.

Roisin couldn't help but take the House Elf's side, as right now, Mrs Weasley was shouting about the Weasley Brood not being ready to leave and how she had enough to do without having to help them with something they should have done themselves last night.

Kreature might be a trial, but Mrs Weasley would have a lot less to do if she didn't try to stop Winky from helping at every turn.

Pulling on a forest-green dress that would blend into Muggle London and fit easily under her school robes, then sitting down to brush her hair, Roisin watched Winky make up for not being allowed to help the Weasleys by packing travel satchels for herself and Hermione. She had probably already packed ones for Mary and Erin, too, just to annoy Ginny and Mrs Weasley by Proxy.

Hermione's contained a few textbooks, her school robes folded small so she wouldn't have to dig through her trunk to find them on the train, a sandwich, and a note saying that she hoped 'Miss Grangy, ma'am' was happy with her work. The note was probably Winky's idea of subtle revenge, knowing how much having a House Elf doing the work would annoy Hermione.

Roisin's satchel contained a Muggle novel she had been reading, her Ancient Runes Textbook and Rune-Spell notebook, her robes, and a box with a ploughman's lunch and a small bottle of Butterbeer, charmed to keep the contents at the appropriate temperature.

Ah, the joys of having House Elves that actually liked you. Roisin thanked Winky, asking her to take her trunk downstairs, and make a satchel for Cedric, if she hadn't already. Winky popped away, looking much happier, and Roisin picked up her satchel, making a mental note to remind the others not to forget theirs.

Now, how much would it annoy Mrs Weasley if she came down neatly dressed and ready to go, while everyone else was still running around like headless chickens...?

* * *

It annoyed Mrs Weasley very much, as it turned out, as the red-haired Matriarch was still seething when they reached the platform. Roisin hugged her grandmother goodbye, and then dragged her paternal cousins off to find a compartment, waving to Desdemona and Millicent as she went.

The more people there were in the compartment to start with, the harder it was for any upper-year students to kick them out while Roisin was at the first Prefect meeting, and few people were inclined to argue with Millicent in the first place.

This year's train ride promised to go by fairly quietly, largely due to the fact that Roisin and her cousins were feeling a bit over-vigilant and paranoid.

They had been told to keep an eye on each other, and Roisin, at least, was taking that literally, not letting the others out of her sight, and conscripting Millicent and Desdemona, who had joined them in their compartment, to watch them when she had to go to the Prefect Meeting.

The Prefect Meeting took place in the Head Compartment, which was actually more of a car in its own right, consisting of the twenty-four Prefects, two Head Students, and the four Heads of Houses.

It wasn't surprising that Padma was the female Prefect for the Fifth Year Ravenclaws, or that Susan Bones took that position for Hufflepuff. Roisin didn't know any of the Ravenclaw boys, so she accepted Terry Boot with a shrug. She had expected Justin Finch-Fletchly to be the Fifth Year Hufflepuff Prefect, but Ernie Macmillan was a good enough choice, even if he was inclined to be a little pompous at times.

The Seventh Years and the Head Girl were not there yet, so Roisin struck up a conversation with the other girls. The Seventh Years showed up a few minutes later, looking harried. Ron and Hermione were not long after them, and Roisin felt gratified that she wasn't the only one to do a double-take at Ron's Presence in the Prefect Car. She had known about his appointment for a month, and she still wasn't used to the idea of Ron as a Prefect.

The meeting went much as Roisin had expected, having asked Cedric what the meetings were usually like. The meeting covered what was expected of them, especially the new Fifth Years, in the role of Prefect, a patrol schedule, and any issues that they thought might come up or needed to be resolved from last year.

The Head Girl, Amanda, pointed out a lack of study groups last years, and the possibility of extra credit being offered for those students willing to act as tutors for their struggling peers. The Sixth Year Ravenclaw Boys Prefect, whose name Roisin didn't know, suggested allowing the Quidditch Teams to form a back-up roster, so that they didn't have to forfeit or rearrange matches because someone was sick, injured or in detention during a game. Roisin mentioned drawing a line on discrimination and harassment.

Harry was her cousin, but the 'POTTER STINKS' badges of last year had made them look like '_spoiled children, sulking over a denied sweet'_, as the Beauxbatons students had described it, and '_a clear and almost shameful division, rather than taking advantage of two champions'_ to Durmstrang. Roisin had picked up more than just a declaration of support from the students she had talked to after the first slanderous article the morning of the Third Task. When the great-niece of the French Minister of Magic, and an International Quidditch Star had a poor opinion of something, it could be damaging.

However the two foreign schools viewed it, their opinions didn't make Hogwarts look good in an international sense. Furthermore, the rumour mill had more than a few family members of students muttering about the competency of a school administration that would allow such blatant harassment.

Professor McGonagall hadn't been pleased at the reminder, and the other House Heads looked genuinely surprised, as if it actually hadn't occurred to them, but they couldn't deny the point. The Prefects were informed to think of ways to prevent such a thing from happening again, and suggestions on the other two topics, which would be discussed at the next meeting.

Roisin ignored how Draco and Professor Snape, the main culprits, were glaring at her back. Bringing up relevant points and questions at the first meeting would make her appear proactive in front of the Deputy Headmistress, which could only be a good thing.

Otherwise, there were fewer clashes than Roisin had anticipated. The Gryffindor Seventh Year Boy Prefect and the Ravenclaw Seventh Year Girl seemed to have some kind of grudge against each other (Roisin wondered if they had been dating and had a bad break-up at some point), but managed to keep it down to gritted teeth and the occasional snide remark.

The real question was; if they could manage it, and were slightly less than only two years older than the Fifth Year Prefects, why the Hell couldn't Ron and Draco show even a small amount of the same maturity? Really, it was embarrassing! Draco managed to stick to business for the most part, with the occasional rude comment under his breath while the topic was changed to something that had nothing to do with Fifth Years.

The Heads of House, when they caught him, delivered a quelling glare or warning, and everyone else, even Hermione, just rolled their eyes and ignored him.

Ron barely contributed to the discussion if he didn't have to, even when it had relevance to the Gryffindor Fifth Year Prefects, and only seemed to pay attention when Quidditch was brought up or when Draco said something that Ron should have simply ignored.

Roisin didn't care which House you were from. It was still disgraceful that the Head Student actually had to threaten to use a Sticking hex and a Silencing charm to separate the two boys, if they couldn't act their age. Ron and Draco were fifteen years old! It shouldn't take a threat of essentially being sent to the corner to make them behave themselves!

After the meeting, the Prefects had a choice of staying in the compartment reserved exclusively for Prefects and Head Students or going back to join their friends. Roisin chose the latter, reluctant to leave Desdemona and the twins in mostly-unsupervised proximity to each other. Also, she was still upset with Draco and Ron, so it probably wasn't a good idea to run the risk of staying in the same compartment as them.

Bidding the others goodbye, she left, wondering where the snack trolley was and hoping that no-one had discovered Winky's packed lunch.

* * *

Roisin had just missed the witch with the trolley, as it turned out, but Desdemona had saved her a cauldron cake and a few chocolate frogs anyway. Now, they were giggling their way through Roisin's well-loved copy of 'Good Omens', by Terry Prachett and Neil Gaiman. Just because the O'Conners followed the Old Ways and seldom, if ever, interacted with the Muggle World didn't make the book any less hysterical, especially when Roisin was reading.

Fionna's husband had been Muggleborn, Roisin was the daughter of a Squib, and Michael and Nessa understood the wisdom of knowing at least the basics of the Muggle World, and had made sure that their children had a working knowledge of it. Millicent and Desdemona needed a few of the concepts explained or elaborated upon, such as the London Motorway and automobiles other than the Knight Bus, but understood enough to still laugh along with the others.

About half-way through the ride, they were interrupted by Blaise and Theo, who had come looking for their respective girlfriends, and stood at the door, waiting to be noticed.

"'I don't suppose – _Get off the road, you clown_ – your people would consider – _and the scooter you rode in on! – _giving me sanctuary?'

'I was about to ask you the same thing – _Watch out for that pedestrian!'_

Crowley swerved around_. "_It's on the road, it knows the risk it's taking_.'__ – _oh, there you are, Blaise."

Erin had actually fallen off her seat with laughter, knocking into Theo as she did, and drawing attention to the two boys. Theo tried to help Desdemona get her breath back, as she had been close to hyperventilating with laughter, and still let out the occasional fit of giggles. Blaise gave his girlfriend an indulgent smile, kissing her on the cheek as he sat next to her. "Hello Rose. What are you reading?"

Roisin held up the book, hauling Erin back onto the bench as she did so. "'Good Omens'. It's really quite funny and excellent reading."

Millicent had finally controlled herself enough to help Theo get Desdemona into an upright position. Thanking her with a nod, Theo frowned at the book. "It might be good, but unless you're using your imagination in Professor Trelawney's class, Divination is hardly an amusing subject, in my opinion. Besides, with Trelawney the mood runs more toward tragedy and despair, not comedy and good fortune."

Roisin laughed again. "It's a fiction book, not a Divination textbook, although you'd probably get some good material for class out of it. 'Good Omens' is a fantasy novel by two Muggle authors, and one of the most hilarious books I've ever read."

Blaise had been reading the blurb, and made a face at Roisin's explanation. "A Muggle book, Rose? One based around Christianity, no less? Where in Merlin's name did your taste go?"

Roisin's love for fantasy books, by any author, was widely known, and she matched his distasteful expression Look for Look. However, Mary interrupted before a fight could break out. "Just because it's written by Muggles doesn't make it any less funny. No one is forcing you to stay and listen, either."

Blaise scowled and left the compartment. Roisin frowned angrily at his retreating back; she hated arguing, but Blaise could stand to be a bit more tolerant. Millicent looked sympathetic. "Is there trouble in paradise, Roisin? Don't worry; Blaise is just being an idiot."

Roisin's frown deepened, before she forced it to smooth into a calm expression. "Let it go, Millie. Now… "– Crowley said, accelerating between a truck and a parked car with barely enough room to fit the finest credit card.' Yes, Desi?"

Desdemona had raised her hand, almost as though they were in class already. Come to think of it, Hogwarts could use a literature class. Desdemona wore a puzzled look that indicated the need for an explanation. "What's a credit card?"

* * *

With perfect timing, they finished the book five minutes before reaching Hogsmeade station, followed by a mad rush to change into their robes before arrival.

Running for the best carriages and looking around to try and spot Luna, Roisin waved to Cedric, Harry and Co., as Desdemona all but tackled a group of Third-Year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, giving the twins the opportunity to clamber into the carriage that the Third-Years had been about to enter.

Cedric sent a good-natured smile and a wave back, while Hermione sent a disapproving scowl at Millicent, who had waded in to join Desdemona's scuffle in order to even the numbers. Ron and Harry tried not to laugh. Neville looked uncertain of how to react, but aimed a tentative wave in their direction anyway. Luna, already seated in the carriage that the Gryffindors were climbing into, lifted a hand, her eyes glued to this month's issue of the Quibbler.

Of course, Blaise chose that moment to show up again, this time accompanied by Draco, Pansy, Greg and Vincent. "Now it's Gryffindors, the Hufflepuff Pretty-Boy and Loony Lovegood? Seriously, Rose, what is with you lately?"

Roisin sent him a dark look, her voice taking on a dangerous note. Was Blaise trying to pick a fight that would have her not talking to him, only a few weeks after resolving a long-term one? "I could ask you the same question, Blaise! I'll talk to the other Houses if I so choose and her name is Luna, not Loony! Have some manners, will you?"

She climbed into the carriage where the others were already seated, barely giving the Thestrals a passing glance, and slammed the door shut, narrowly missing Blaise's fingers. As if sensing her mood, the carriage took off. Warily, Seamus broke the silence. "How did the Prefect Meeting go?"

This was a fairly safe topic, and Roisin shrugged in a would-be-casual manner, looking proud of her green-and-silver badge. "It was fairly standard. Cedric and Amanda – she's Head Girl this year – explained our basic duties and handed out timetables for Prefect Patrols and Meetings. We can negotiate shifts on an 'As Needed' basis, to work around Quidditch and other clubs, but both parties have to submit written agreement and notification of the change at least a day beforehand, to stop people from trying to shirk."

Desdemona gave a teasing smirk. "So, what shifts can we expect to be able to sneak back late?"

Roisin teased right back. "None. Prefects don't patrol their own House area for exactly that reason. I have the first shift on the Second floor Monday and Wednesday, and Dawn shift on the Third Floor Tuesday and Thursday. First shift is nine O'Clock until Midnight, and Dawn shift is three a.m. until six a.m. I'll see if I can switch my Dawn shift to the weekend if I have Potions first on those days."

Millicent laughed. "Good thinking. Better brush up on Silencing and Muffling Charms, though. Pansy turns into a Hellcat if you wake her up after 10:30 and before 7:00."

This comment lightened the atmosphere, and the rest of the ride was spent in light conversation. Blaise had still better come up with a very good apology before he was off the hook, though.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: For those who might be unaware, a Chatelaine is a woman who owns or controls a large building such as a castle or manor, usually as the official Hostess. She is the senior female relative of the owner (usually the wife, but if the owner is unmarried, often the dowager, if there is one, or a sister or daughter) who takes care of household issues, hospitality, and occasionally charity works. The Blacks being an Ancient and Noble House, with a French Motto, I thought it made a nice inclusion. Honestly, being the self-entitled chatelaine is the only possibility to rationally explain why Molly thinks that she can run Grimmauld Place as she tries to._

_Having not been a Prefect, or knowing what would be expected of Hogwarts Prefects beyond escorting the First Years to the Common Room after the Welcoming Feast, I have made it up myself. If any of the readers have been Prefects or know the UK Schooling system for such things, please tell me, and I'll do my best to correct it._


	67. Professors and Problems

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. What else is new?_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX**

They managed to get into the Great Hall with only a little pushing, shoving and one or two discreet hexes, which was an improvement from last year.

Once inside, Roisin waved goodbye to Luna and Seamus, leading the others to the Slytherin table, where she promptly took up people-watching until the Sorting began. You could tell a lot about the current affairs of Hogwarts by paying attention to which person or group was acting tense, and if it seemed to have anything to do with another person or group. Gauging the current mood of the Professors was also a good idea, especially when placing bets on the current DADA teacher. Roisin had won forty Galleons, twelve Sickles and twenty-five Knuts in Third Year by betting that Professor Lupin would resign peacefully. It would have been the entire pot of sixty Galleons, sixteen Sickles and fourteen Knuts, but a then-Sixth Year had wagered on the Professor being attacked by a Dark Creature.

As Professor Lupin had been attacked by a werewolf at some point, and the boy hadn't actually mentioned a time frame, they split the winnings, despite Roisin's protests that Lupin had been a werewolf for at least his entire adult life, so it shouldn't count.

Right now, there were two new things – or rather, people – out of place at the staff table. Hagrid was absent, his seat filled by the substitute from last year, Professor Grubbly-Plank. While she bore Hagrid no real ill-will (except for the Blast-Ended Skrewts last year, which she may never forgive him for) Roisin couldn't help but hope that the witch was here to stay, at least until OWL year was over and Roisin could drop the class.

The other change was the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, who bore a striking resemblance to a toad, appeared as though she belonged more at a Ministry desk-job than in a Defence classroom, and whose choice of wardrobe made Roisin despise her on sheer principle.

Her robes were bearable, although the grey fabric, combined with her short, curly, mouse-brown hair, made her look like someone's maiden aunt. It was the bright, fluffy pink cardigan and matching alice headband that really drew Roisin's ire. Aside from being a totally horrible shade that clashed with everything from her robes to her skin tone, it made her look like a mature woman trying to play dress-up in their 6-year-old niece's clothing.

Roisin stifled a laugh when Millicent muttered almost exactly the same thing only seconds after Roisin had finished thinking them.

Further conversation was stalled when the First-Years entered, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on a stool. Roisin spotted Erin, nervous but still calmer than most of her peers, as the Sorting Hat burst into song.

_In times of old when I was new,_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted_

_United by a common goal_

_They had the self-same yearning_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning_

"_Together we will build and teach,"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided._

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor,_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad and sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him._

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor_

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest_

_And taught them all she knew_

_Thus the Houses and their Founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true_

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears_

_The Houses that, like pillars four_

_Had once held up our school_

_Now turned upon each other and_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end_

_What with duelling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And then at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted_

_And never since the Founders four,_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united,_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_To let you know the score_

_I sort you into Houses_

_For that is what I'm for._

_But this year, I'll go further_

_Listen carefully to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to sort you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong._

_Though I must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs_

_The warning History shows_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin._

The applause was a bit scattered, many people pausing in confusion or exchanging glances before they remembered to cheer. As Professor McGonagall began to call out names, Draco sighed. "Not the nicest thing to say about Slytherins, even if it is true, but calling Hufflepuff the leftovers is worse."

Roisin raised an eyebrow. "You mean how the fighting stopped when Slytherin left, or the bit about blood and gender segregation? On the other hand, you could also claim that Hufflepuffs are the more well-adjusted House, without only one domineering trait."

Draco shrugged. "Gender segregation? Oh, '_pure-blood wizards'._ It probably meant both, but just couldn't fit within the parameters. Either or both, and I'm going to forget that you said that last part. Hufflepuffs are misfit pushovers, remember?"

Roisin wondered, not for the first time, how her friend could be so blind to the obvious. "I'm sorry, refresh my memory, which House did last year's Triwizard Champion come from, again?"

Draco glared, but couldn't really think of a rebuttal as Desdemona giggled. Roisin turned her attention back to the Sorting as "O'Conner, Erin!" was called. Erin calmly walked up and put on the hat, doing her best not to seem nervous. Beside Roisin, Desdemona whispered. "Where do you think she'll go?"

Roisin shrugged, keeping her eyes on the Hat. "I have no idea. Do me a favour and cheer no matter where it is, though. She's worried about disapproval if she doesn't go into Slytherin or Gryffindor, and was hoping for the security of having at least one sibling with her."

Roisin's friends, at least those within earshot, agreed, earning a few strange looks when they cheered at the announcement of "HUFFLEPUFF!" Erin looked at the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, but relaxed when Roisin gave her a large, approving smile, and nearly skipped to where Cedric was waving her over amid his table's cheers.

Roisin supposed that Erin would probably face a few questions from her new Housemates over it, but stranger things had happened, and it wasn't the first time family members had been sorted into different Houses. Clapping as "Patil, Sienna!" joined Slytherin, Millicent leaned over. "Where do you think that came from? If not Gryffindor or Slytherin, I would have pegged her for Ravenclaw."

Roisin had been wondering the same thing, even if she wasn't overly concerned either way. "If I had to guess, I'd say that she told the Sorting Hat that she'd work hard to be worthy of Gryffindor or Slytherin, or that she wanted to be with her family. The Hat said that my loyalty was a bit too selective for Hufflepuff, but Erin wouldn't have that problem."

On her other side, Desdemona nodded. "The Hat said that my determination to work to achieve my goals could send me to either Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but that the Badgers might not survive my more, ah… active side."

On the other side of her, Theo snickered, clapping as "Stewart, Jacob," and "Sutton, David" joined them in quick succession. "That's one way of putting it. Ravenclaw couldn't have handled you, either, and Gryffindor already had the Weasley Twins, so Slytherin it was, and we're lucky to have you."

Roisin looked the other way, feeling almost intrusive as the couple stared lovingly at each other. At least everyone else's relationships seemed to be going all right.

* * *

Roisin usually tuned out Dumbledore's beginning-of-term announcements, unless there was something of note. As such, she had been talking to Pansy in a whisper when Umbridge gave the most annoying '_hem, hem_' she had ever heard and stood up. Most of the Hall was silent in stunned disbelief as Umbridge interrupted the Headmaster and thanked them for welcoming her to Hogwarts. "I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."

Lips barely moving, Blaise leaned over toward Roisin. "Is she serious?"

Even in her state of shock, Roisin remembered that she was Pointedly Ignoring him, and it was eventually Draco who answered. "Disturbingly enough, I think she is."

Umbridge was still chattering on, talking about 'progress for the sake of progress' and other nonsense that boiled down to something a lot like Dumbledore's '_don't do anything I don't tell you to'_ attitude, seemingly oblivious to the fact that no one was listening, and even those who were putting up a good pretense were looking distinctly glassy-eyed.

The Slytherins had long since given up. Desdemona and Millicent were quietly debating the merits of a Wizarding fiction novel that Roisin hadn't read yet, while Pansy was sharing a fashion magazine with Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, sisters who had previously been home-schooled. Roisin had pulled out her notebook, and was trying to re-write the Sorting Song in Furthark and haiku format as Mary stifled giggles over her shoulder, absently wondering if it would be possible to come up with a rune-cluster that would give the bare bones of Umbridge's chatter and filter out the rest (Roisin could think of several people who would pay big money for something like that for when they were stuck in board/department/weekly meetings). If Umbridge was going to dish out an entire year of this, someone was going to be driven mad.

_Best Friends, United…_

_Each could choose their own.  
__Slytherin, the cunning took,  
__Gryffindor, the bold._

_Ravenclaw, the smart,  
__Hufflepuff, those who were left  
__One and all, to teach._

Roisin was trying to think of what to do next when Pansy leaned over. "Roisin, why are you using runes to write the Sorting Song in haiku?"

Desdemona's snicker, echoed by several others in hearing range, and Roisin's response were cut off by a sudden clatter of chairs and people rising to their feet, suggesting that Umbridge had finally finished and they had been dismissed. Quickly shoving her notebook back into a pocket and rising to her feet, Roisin clapped her hands for attention. "First-Years! First-Years come with me!" In a softer tone, she added, "Draco, if you are going to be a prefect, then kindly act like it. Stop sneering at the Gryffindors and come help."

Draco scowled at her for telling him what to do, even if it was part of his job in the first place, but complied. Roisin sighed and gave him a different job. "Fine, go find the Head Girl and other Prefects. I think we need to talk about the new teacher." She raised her voice and turned her attention back to the First-Years, who were fighting their way through the crush of students. "Come on, you lot, over here!"

Roisin really hoped that this wasn't setting the standard for the rest of Draco's time as prefect. Deciding to let it go for now, she led the new Slytherins down to the Common Room. "It's easy to get lost, so pay attention to the way we are going, and try to think up your own markers to remember the way."

* * *

The way to the dungeons was straightforward, so they reached the Common Room in fairly short order, unlike the Gryffindors, who had to navigate several staircases and at least one changing door to reach their Common Room. As self-consoling thoughts went that one was particularly good. Double-checking to make sure that she had all of the First-Years, Roisin made sure to speak clearly. "Cunning and Ambition. That is the motto of Slytherin House, and also this week's password. Passwords change on a weekly basis, and the change will be posted on the notice board on Monday mornings. Now, everyone inside, we have one or two more notices before you go to sleep."

The first years filed in, followed by Draco, who shot Roisin another nasty look, and was calmly ignored. "Right, I know you're tired, so I'll be quick. You are now in Slytherin House, and I expect you to live up to our standards and rules. Rule One: you are expected to study and do well in class. If you are struggling, inform us or Professor Snape, and we will try to arrange tutoring. Rule Two: No Bullying. House affiliation will not stop me from punishing you if I am provided with evidence of any of you mistreating a classmate, whichever house they are in. Likewise, if anyone tries to mistreat you, come to me or Professor Snape, and we will deal with them."

She looked around at the young faces, which were attentive, but clearly struggling to stay awake. "It may take some time to learn your way around, so for the first week, Draco or I will be escorting you to your classes. Meet me down here at eight tomorrow morning to go to breakfast. If you aren't down by five past eight, you're on your own. Girls dorms are the first door you come to going up the stairs, boys' dorms the same going down. Goodnight, all of you."

Head Students slept apart from their Year Mates, as their duties and the meetings they were required to attend could frequently run late, and the last thing students taking their NEWTs needed was to be woken up at all hours. Regardless of what popular rumour might say, the Head Boy and Girl did not share a dorm (There were rooms for married students, as Hogwarts had been built during a time where people married as young as fifteen or sixteen, but that was off-topic), but each House had two extra, single-person rooms for the Head Students.

Right now, the empty Head Boy's room had been drafted as a temporary Emergency Meeting Room. Winky had popped in with hot chocolate, a fruit platter, and seven small vials containing a mild dose of Pepper-Up Potion in case the meeting ran late. As the ones who had called the meeting, Draco and Roisin sat on the bed, with the others scattered on various furniture. Roisin started. "So, was anyone else reading between the lines of our illustrious new professor's speech?"

She took a piece of apple and waited for the others to start. Amanda nodded seriously. "The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts. I didn't get a good look at the other Houses, but those who also seemed to figure out the obvious didn't look happy, and you can bet that they'll explain it to their Housemates. The question is: what do we do about it?"

The Seventh Year Boy Prefect, whose name Roisin kept forgetting, shrugged. "My mum works for the Ministry, and says that Umbridge is your typical lackey. If we do what she says and act like we support the Ministry, we stand a chance at a year with a teacher other than Professor Snape on our side."

His counterpart pointed out the obvious flaw. "That's just it, though; A year. In at least forty years, not one Defence Professor has spent more than one year in the position. People don't remember the good things the 'enemy side' does, so this has more than a fair chance of backfiring spectacularly if we go too far. We, and probably Umbridge, won't have to worry much, since we won't be here next year, but I shouldn't have to point out that we don't need the other Houses hating us more than they already do."

Both good points. Roisin took her turn. "I'm safe, with my family in Ireland, but Umbridge is the Senior Undersecretary. She's used to saying something and having people do it without questions. She'll expect certain things from people with family in the Ministry, and I doubt she'll be above threats or bribery to get their support or obedience. People who try to stand up and speak out, or who she just doesn't like, are in for a bad year."

Draco's contribution was nowhere near as helpful. "You're doomed, then, what with your cousin and inter-house friends. Father says that Umbridge hates anyone who doesn't have at least three generations magical on at least one side, isn't purely British, or has magical creature ancestry. The Patil twins are w-" he caught Roisin's warning look and quickly changed what he was about to say. "- of foreign decent, and Lovegood's father owns a magazine that doesn't hesitate to speak against the Ministry and Fudge, even if hardly anyone believes it, not to mention the articles over the summer."

The Sixth-Year Boy backed him up. "And Bones is the niece of probably the most incorruptible person in the Ministry, and who doesn't get along with Fudge. Umbridge will not like that. That's your problem, though. Back to the original question, what do we do about it?"

Amanda shrugged. "I vote that we wait. There is a small chance that Umbridge will have a different attitude as Professor than she does as Ministry Toady." Nearly everyone stifled laughter at the pun. "I think we should see how she acts. Find out who she doesn't like, who she does, and the pattern. We need to know how far she is willing to push, and her methods. We'll meet again in two weeks."

Roisin nodded. "If she turns out to be willing to use threats and bribery, I suggest those with Ministry relatives go along with her, but give an appearance of reluctance around other students. I don't want any of us to be caught in the backlash if it all blows up in Umbridge's face."

The Sixth-Year Girl agreed. "Talk to your Year-Mates, let them know what we decided, and see where they stand. Roisin, Draco, you have the first years. Tell them to keep their heads down. We'll tackle the Second Years. Amanda and the Seventh-Years can deal with Third and Fourth."

There were nods all around, and the meeting broke up.

Tomorrow was a Saturday, but Roisin had swapped her Tuesday and Thursday Dawn shifts the first week, for the weekend ones, and wanted at least a few hours' sleep before she had to be up patrolling.

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_A/N: Right, another chapter up. __I hope people like my version of how the Slytherins react. It will be explored further in future chapters._

_I don't think that everyone in Slytherin would automatically follow Umbridge for no reason. Having a teacher other than Snape blatantly favour them would be a powerful motivation, but I refuse to believe that not one of them realized how badly it could go, especially if Umbridge only stayed the one year. By a rough estimate, it has been around twenty years since Voldemort first showed up (I'm not sure when he first made an appearance) and probably at least ten years between that point and when he first placed the curse when Dumbledore first turned him down as a professor. Even if the DADA curse had only kicked in after Voldemort's Fall, that is still at least fourteen teachers in as many years, and someone must have noticed._

_With a few notable exceptions, Slytherins do tend to look before they leap, and it was a few days before the first Educational Degrees came out. Marietta bowed to pressure, and I'm betting that she wasn't the only one. The Inquisitorial Squad bowed at the promise of power and revenge. Things are not always as cut-and-dry as JKR makes them out to be._

_Thanks, Nat _


	68. Rending and Reconciling

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. After 68 chapters, you'd think would stop making me write these._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT**

Prefect Patrol was quiet, though how much of that was due to people being tired after the Welcoming Feast Saturday morning and wanting to settle in and rest up for classes on Sunday morning was debatable. Draco had been forced into taking the First Years to Breakfast on the weekend mornings while Roisin slept in, with the promise that Roisin would do it on the weekdays. He also spent Saturday Afternoon showing them around Hogwarts, while Roisin took them over the School Grounds on Sunday with Special Attention to the Forbidden Forest and CoMC area. (If they knew for a fact where _not_ to go if they valued life and limb, they had no excuse for violating the rules), and they split the responsibility of taking the First Years to class for the first week.

Someone had forgotten to draw the curtains on Sunday night, so Roisin woke up early Monday Morning, with the sun shining in her face. Deciding against simply rolling over and going back to sleep, she settled for getting to the showers first. The other girls were starting to stir as she finally emerged, the hot water making her fair skin a lot pinker than normal. Pansy was the first awake, and decided to get started on The Plan.

The Fifth-Years had discussed Umbridge the previous night, and worked out that if they had to present a show of division, Desdemona would side with Roisin against Pansy, and Millicent would stay neutral. As they might as well get started (and as Desdemona had accidentally set her alarm for 12 O'Clock Midnight, rather than 12 O'Clock noon yesterday, waking everyone up in the middle of the night), Pansy was in a vindictive mood and wanted to start the morning with a very literal bang.

Hearing the first syllables of the spell, Roisin had just enough time to drop her hairbrush and cover her ears before a cannon-blast echoed through the room, making the final two occupants bolt upright. Deciding that she did not want to be around for the aftermath of Millicent feeling disoriented and with a ringing headache, Roisin quickly finished her hair and evacuated the room. If the shouting was anything to go by, the rest of the House wouldn't be asleep much longer anyway.

* * *

Potions was always on the agenda for the first day back, so Roisin grabbed her bag and Potions text book and settled down in the Common Room, waiting for the First Years to show up so she could take them to breakfast.

Roisin's youngest cousin, Erin, had started Hogwarts, sorted into Hufflepuff, and with her, a Muggle-born with an extremely loud and carrying voice, David Sutton, sorted into Slytherin. Under Roisin's protection as one of her First-Years, he stood a higher chance of surviving his school years intact, though outside of school would be a totally different matter, if the breakfast conversation this morning was anything to go by. "So, this Lord Volauvent…"

David was cut off by the mixed reactions of those within hearing range. A number of people within hearing range automatically flinched, before registering exactly what David had said. Others were slightly quicker on the uptake, and produced a more noticeable response.

Desdemona fell off her chair, shrieking with laughter and drawing the attention of the Ravenclaws, the next table over, and a muttered prediction of points being lost as soon as Slytherin had any to lose.

Roisin stared at David in pure shock, before her lips curved into a slow, broad smirk. _Lord Flakey Pastry? Oh, dear._ She would have to pass that on to Harry, and perhaps the Weasley Twins; surely they could come up with something to do with that. Their mother might not like it, but it would make a serious hit when they got their planned joke shop up and running.

Erin, Seamus and Mary, all seated at the Slytherin table, choked on their drinks.

Draco, Pansy and several older years went very pale.

Theo, Blaise and Millicent froze in shock.

Vince, Greg and Luna remained unperturbed. Then again, nothing ruffled Luna, and the other two were focused on their breakfast.

* * *

The First Year Slytherins had Herbology straight after Breakfast, so Roisin gathered them up and led them away, trying not to make mental comparisons between the eleven-year-olds following her in a ragged line, and a gaggle of ducklings following their mother. "Professor Sprout is nice, but she takes her plants very seriously, and some of them can be dangerous if mishandled, so no fooling around. Draco or I will be here to collect you once the lesson is over, and to take you to your next class."

Professor Sprout was always five minutes early, so Roisin left the First-Years in her capable hands and took off for Potions. Being a Slytherin Prefect would not save her from Professor Snape's wrath if she was late for the first lesson of the year.

* * *

Roisin caught up to the Gryffindors, who were understandably dawdling as much as possible, about half-way down to Potions.

As usual, Ron and Hermione were arguing, which Roisin would have ignored had Harry not looked much more annoyed about it than usual, and had they not been arguing about Quidditch, a topic that Hermione usually didn't see fit to waste breath upon.

Having no intention of being caught in the middle, Roisin dropped back to talk to Parvati, who was trying not to look upset about something. "Hey, are you all right? What's with those two this time?"

Parvati sighed. "Cho came over to talk to Harry at breakfast. It looked like she was almost flirting, but then Ron interrupted about Cho supporting the Tornedo's – they've become really popular since they started winning, and he implied that she'd only just jumped on the bandwagon – and Cho stormed off. Hermione called him tactless, and they've been at it ever since." The girl paused, as if debating with herself, then continued, "Lavender doesn't disbelieve the Prophet, and we had an argument about it. She might come around if she hears Harry's side of the story, but – "

Parvati shrugged, and Roisin nodded in sympathetic understanding. 'Doesn't disbelieve' was better than 'believes the _Prophet'_ , but pointing that out was largely irrelevant to and unlikely to help the situation. Roisin tried to think of a way to cheer Parvati up. "Well, Cho certainly moves fast, but I wonder if this is rebound or rebellion."

Parvati was still Parvati, and the possibility of gossip make her ears perk up. She leaned in close. "What happened?"

Roisin smiled. "You know how the reporters were hounding everyone over the summer? Well, Harry and Cedric were out of reach, so they went looking elsewhere. Cho was working in her family's shop, so they camped out there, hoping for second-hand news. Eventually, it started driving off the actual customers, so Cho's parents pretty much told her to break it off with Cedric. I wonder if flirting with Harry is just a way to get close again."

Parvati looked a bit happier. "I'm not spreading that around, but thanks for telling me."

Roisin smiled softly. She and Parvati were not close, as such, but she and Harry had been good for each other, while they lasted. Roisin spotted the other Slytherin girls and darted over to join them as they approached the Potions classroom.

* * *

Roisin's Head of House had his flaws, but no-one could deny that his ability to make a class sit down and shut up with only a few words was impressive. "Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic as some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape at least an 'Acceptable' in your Ordinary Wizarding Levels, or suffer my… displeasure."

More than one student gulped, and Roisin could spot Greg and Vince looking slightly desperate. This was not unusual.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," the Professor went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWTs Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes flickered to Harry, who glared back. This was also not unusual, and Roisin was not surprised. She glared at Draco, who had sniggered loudly, as Professor Snape continued. "But we have one more year to go before that happy moment of farewell. So, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT-level, I advise all of you to concentrate you efforts on maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students."

Roisin wondered if the rumour about Professor Snape turning failed Potions students into Potions ingredients was actually true, but hurridly went back to paying attention.

"Today we will be mixing a Potion that regularly comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Levels: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and sooth agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a deep and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method are on the board, you will find everything you need in the store cupboard, and you have an hour and a half. Start."

Bemoaning the fact that Greg and Vince had been smart enough to latch onto someone who knew what they were doing and consoling herself that she was not stuck with both of them (Blaise was not trying to hide his dismay at Greg setting up his cauldron next to him), Roisin sent Vince off to get ingredients.

Having been paired with the Bookends before (usually when they were one botched potion away from failing), Roisin had found that the best way to deal with it was to give them whatever ingredients needed to be powdered, ground or crushed, and go over each step throroughly. Setting him to powder the moonstone and press to poppy seeds, Roisin began to chop, dice and measure the rest, hoping that Professor Snape was giving them a taste of the harder potions they would be brewing, rather than starting with the easiest. The Draught of Peace had been at the back of the Potions Textbook, so it was possible.

The Draught of Peace was a tricky, fiddly potion, make harder by constantly keeping one eye on Vince as she worked. More than once, Roisin would have to lunge over to stop him from doing something that would result in a blown up cauldron, and even then she was sometimes too late.

Too much poppy, and three drops of syrup of hellebore, combined with too little moonstone, meant that the drinker would find themselves in a very queasy stupor, and the resulting vapor was a deep purple, rather than silver. Turning the fire too low while simmering meant an almost porridge-like consistency, but at least Vince would pass.

A few seconds delay in stirring, usually while helping Vince with his potion, had Roisin's cauldron emitting a cloud that was more like fog than vapor, but the rest of it was done perfectly, and Professor Snape always gave extra credit to whoever was working with Greg or Vince whenever they turned in a potion better than 'barely Acceptable'.

She looked up worriedly for a moment when Professor Snape started doing his rounds, but had no chance to see what happened when he reached Harry, as she was forced to practically leap over the bench to grab Vince's arm just as he was about to add water in an attempt to thin his potion, and then explain _why_ doing so would be a bad idea that would result in an exploded cauldron and possible coma.

Whatever happened, it couldn't have been good, if the Professor's final instructions were anything to go by. "Those of you who _have_ managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making."

Roisin had used moonstone to make her rune-set as Fourth-Year summer homework, and still had her notes around somewhere (there was always someone in a younger year who managed to lose their own notes around exam time, so it helped to keep yours to lend out), meaning that at least one piece of homework wouldn't take long to complete. Given that she had Arithmancy next, however, Roisin wasn't holding out hope for the same in her other classes.

Looking at some of the other potions being bottled, Roisin wondered if Professor Snape might not need to mix his own Draught of Peace before the day was out. Ron's potion, rather than smelling faintly of poppy, gave off a foul odour of rotten eggs. Neville's potion was the consistency of just-mixed cement, which he was scraping out into his flagon, where it rested in a lumpy mess. Roisin didn't know _what_ had happened with Greg's potion, but Blaise had clearly not been paying as much attention as she had, because Greg's flagon exploded as soon as he ladled the Draught in, setting his robes on fire.

Packing her things away, Roisin caught Pansy as they handed in their samples. "I have to collect the first-years from Herbology and take them to Transfiguration. Can you tell Professor Vector where I am if I don't make it to class in time?"

Pansy nodded, then jumped and nearly dropped her flagon as Professor Snape's voice sounded from behind them. "Ten points to Slytherin, Miss O'Conner, for taking your Prefect duties seriously."

Well, that was a good start to the day, and Draco was stuck ferrying the Firsties around after lunch. Hopefully the good mood would last.

* * *

The good mood did last through Arithmancy (Roisin was late, but Professor McGonagall had provided her with a pass), where they had a quiz on how much they had forgotten over the summer, and a quick overview of what they would be covering that term, through lunch and the chatter of excited First-Years describing their first day in exquisite detail, past the free period after lunch, and up until five minutes into Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Roisin didn't know why she bothered noticing that Professor Umbridge's wand, left lying on her desk, was a lot smaller than most, but she wasn't the only one.

Michael Corner commented on it loudly enough for the entire class to hear, which prompted Terry Boot to say that size didn't matter and that they should give it (as in the class as taught by Umbridge) a chance, no matter what rumours they had heard from the others. Roisin was close enough to clap a hand over Desdemona's mouth before she could respond, but too far away to do anything about Pansy, who supplied the obvious comeback. "That's what they all say. Is there something you're not telling your girlfriend, Terry, dear?"

It was probably the first time Umbridge's presence had accomplished anything useful, as her sudden entrance prevented any further teasing.

That was the first and only good thing about the class, however, and it didn't last.

First, the 'Professor' announced that they would not be using wands or practicing spells, despite the OWL exams having a large practical portion. Roisin instantly lost all hope of having a competent DADA teacher this year, and joined Millie in pretending to read the textbook while passing around notes about organizing a potential study group.

A similar idea had already been brought up in the Prefect meeting on the train, and Roisin would be shocked if they managed to find someone who thought of Umbridge as having a higher level of competency than pond-scum. Professor McGonagall, at least, would back them, and Ravenclaw was probably already organizing their own groups.

Still, at least they were doing something productive. Theo and Desdemona were passing a role of parchment between them, covered in what looked suspiciously like games of 'Hangman', while Draco had a copy of _Quidditch Monthly_ hidden in his textbook. Glancing over at the Ravenclaws, Padma had two copies of the Defense textbook on her table, and the interest with which she was pursuing the second, slightly thicker, one suggested that it was a different book charmed to look like the proscribed text.

The second bad thing was when Umbridge openly censored Roisin when she tried to point out that practical spell casting counted as half of their total grade, and they had to demonstrate proficiency if they wanted to pass their exams at the end of the year. Worse, when Pansy tried to back up the same complaint less than a minute later, the blonde girl was praised for 'attempting to surpass the shortcomings of her classmates'.

Third, she insisted on pointing out everyone's ancestry, family background and social/political/financial connections. The fact that she was obviously planning to kiss up to the more connected students was potentially useful, but the idiot Toad-woman managed to reveal Roisin's carefully omitted heritage secret. While Roisin was the daughter of a squib and a Muggle, she went by her grandmother's family name, and prudently side-stepped any mention of her immediate heritage, a fact that would have caused her no end of trouble in Slytherin, who prided themselves on blood-purity, despite the fact that the O'Conner clan could trace its roots dating back before Merlin.

Her friends would most likely stand by her, but there were plenty of Slytherins who would trample her with nail-studded boots if they thought it would get them to the top. Which, given how fast Umbridge was gathering power, it probably would.

Desdemona knew, of course, having been the one to warn Roisin that not everyone was accepting of non-magical backgrounds, but Roisin was not blind to the fact that most of her year-mates were very conscientious of bloodlines. Perhaps now would be a good time to take shameless advantage of Gryffindor House's general dislike for Umbridge, obvious after only three years had experienced her, and their tendency to 'Champion the Helpless'.

* * *

The Slytherin Prefects and Head Girl had been planning to wait for two weeks before re-convening to talk about dealing with Umbridge, but by the end of the first week, it was obvious which way the wind was blowing, and they needed a solid plan before Umbridge started to force the issue.

Draco was the first to speak. "I'll be the first to admit that I don't like Potter, and it's be nice to see him on the receiving end of a teacher's prejudice for once," (Roisin barely managed to stop herself from asking which Potions class Draco had been in for the past four years, because it obviously wasn't the same one she and Harry had attended) "but Dumbledore is no fool, and Potter has a streak of luck bigger than anyone I know. Things have the potential to backfire quite spectacularly if we make a wrong move."

Amanda nodded in agreement. "We have ourselves in a bad position. Umbridge works for the Ministry, which could put several of our families at risk if we get on her bad side. On the other hand, Umbridge is making a number of powerful enemies, and we don't want to show our cards before we know which way the runes will fall."

The Sixth Year Boy, Demetri, tilted his head. "If we openly oppose Umbridge, those of us with family in the Ministry put them at risk. If we side with her, we are going to have the rest of Hogwarts hating us more than they usually do. We need to find a medium."

His partner, Ophelia, sighed. "Easier said than done. Umbridge won't settle for anything less than clear allegiance, but if things get out of hand, the rest of the school will strike at her in any way they can, including going after her 'minions'."

Roisin bit her lip in thought. "It's just an idea, but hear me out. Slytherin presents a united front, but every House has the occasional difference of opinion, especially during periods of high tension. I suggest having several of us Toady up to Umbridge – yes, the pun was deliberate – while others discreetly oppose her, and most stay out of it."

Draco nodded. "The other Houses don't think much of Slytherin as a whole, but there are a few members who are known neutrals. Roisin, you have allies in the other Houses, and no one in their right minds will believe that you would side with Umbridge against Potter, so you'd be perfect to make it look like Slytherin isn't totally bad, and spread a few mitigating rumors if this looks like it might go badly."

Amanda agreed. "It would be best if we could get one or two from each year to do the same. It would give us an inside on how the other Houses react, or what they're planning, because there is no way that the Gryffindors will just sit back and let this happen."

That was a given. "Mary, my cousin, has a Gryffindor twin, and anyone will accept that family trumps House. Desdemona will probably follow me, if I ask her, and that gives Theo, a neutral, an excuse to come along for the ride.

The Seventh Year Boy, Antony, concluded the meeting. "The First Years are in the best position, since no one will expect them to have picked up on how Hogwarts works yet. I suggest that we all talk to our years – Roisin, you can get your cousin to talk to the Fourth Years, and I've got a sister in Second – and sound out who would be best in what role. We can meet again in a few days."

The meeting broke up, and Roisin left to search out Mary, explaining the idea. Mary, naturally, agreed almost instantly, and Roisin returned to her dorm, lying in wait for the other three girls. This would not be an easy conversation.

* * *

Mary sitting with her brother at the Gryffindor table, sometimes joined by their cousin and little sister, was not an uncommon occurrence, but it was clear to even the slowest observer that there was something rotten in the House of Slytherin. This was clearly evidenced by the glaring five-seat divide between four fifth-years, and the rest of the house.

Desdemona was talking quietly to Millicent and Theo, a warning sign in itself, and the normally placid Roisin was glaring at nothing in particular, oblivious to the toast-rack that had wandered into her line of sight, and then promptly abandoned its post for a running leap to hiding at the Ravenclaw Table.

In all fairness, the unfortunate object could hardly be blamed, though the teapot that followed its example should have been more careful about spilling on the other students when it sprinted to the other end of the Slytherin Table. Roisin's expression clearly stated that the first person to bother her would be hexed, and that the second person to interrupt would be spending quality time with Madam Pomfrey.

Draco sneered, supposedly at Roisin, but really at how pleased Umbridge looked at the 'division'. Roisin tossed her hair and retaliated with a proud, superior look. Yes, it had been her idea, and yes, it was working better than any of them had expected.

Let the deception begin.

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_A/N: Anyway, the latest chapter is up, and I hope that the 193 people who have this on Alerts, plus any newcomers, enjoy it. Flames will be used to roast chestnuts in the open fireplace that I don't have. _

_Modern apartment blocks, fireplaces and chimneys don't mix, apparently. _

_Tell me that there is not at least one person in Slytherin, the House of the supposedly Cunning, incapable of thinking up a medium between following Umbridge and surviving the years after she left. Besides which, there is really no other way to explain how the Slytherins suddenly became 'Ultra-Evil' in Book Five. No-one sane is __**that**__ over-the-top about being extra-nasty and supporting someone unless they have an ulterior motive._

_The Lord Vol-au-vent joke owes credit to __kbinnz__ and her beyond-brilliant fic '__Harry's New Home'__. Eat something before you read it, because your computer and monitor will not thank you for spitting food/soda over them due to uncontrollable laughter._

_I'm going away for Christmas on the 22nd__, and won't be back until after New Year, so I'm posting several updates now to tide you all over. Reviews make wonderful Christmas Presents!_

_Thanks, Nat._


	69. The Plot thickens

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, which should be obvious by now, but the Mods insist on me saying so anyway._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

_This chapter is dedicated to my twin, who died on December 26, 2005_

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT**

Homework was piling up, and they weren't even a fortnight into the year. Winky had not been pleased at having to resume her old role of forcing the girls to eat and sleep when they got too caught up in their work.

Still, at least it took Roisin's mind of sulking and kicking herself at missing a detail that threw The Plan arse-over-teakettle.

Roisin's idea of how to get through the 'Year of the Toad' with Slytherin House intact was a good one, but they had all missed one very important flaw: given permission to misbehave, people tended to get carried away. As a result, Roisin could understand why it was happening, even if she didn't like it.

It had been a very, very long time since the Slytherins had been able to get away with even the suspicion of anything even remotely out of line, even if the other three houses, especially Gryffindor, could break the rules with impunity.

That a higher authority (other than just their Head of House) not only allowed it, but was actually willing to punish the other Houses, and encouraged her Favourites to act as though they were above the other students, had quickly gone to certain people's heads.

Unfortunately, while Slytherin as a whole (with the exceptions of those who were acting as the mitigating factors) had quickly shot to the top of the School Hierarchy, they had also shot to the top of everyone else's Shit List, which was not the best place to be.

The First Years were safe, as long as they didn't deliberately antagonize others, and Roisin had made it generally known that any unprovoked attacks would land the perpetrators at the top of _her_ shit list, which was also not a good place to be.

Second and Third Years were mostly smart enough to keep their heads down and travel in packs. Mary was exempt from vengeance by virtue of her Gryffindor Twin, but the rest of Fourth Year and up, who Roisin had presumed to be old enough to know better or think of long-term consequences, were not doing themselves any favors.

Another bad thing was that Blaise had used it as an excuse to break up with her for good, and under questioning, Draco had reluctantly assured her that it wasn't an act, or due to outstanding family pressure, but the real thing. To cover (Professor Snape was tutoring a few of the NEWT students, and no-one was sure where he stood with Umbridge), they staged an argument about blood status and Muggle-Borns being worthless.

Deciding that five minutes was a long enough argument for her to cut and storm off, Roisin had been about to make a dramatic exit when Blaise loudly commented that such behavior was only to be expected from a girl of such low breeding and he was glad to be rid of her.

As a result, the Slytherin Common Room was being treated to the sight of a blazing row between the former couple.

"I can't believe I ever thought I liked such a self-absorbed, clingy Squib-spawn!"

"_You_ asked _me_ out, you practically asexual bastard! I'm not the one who started it!"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!"

"So did admitting that you belonged to the same species as me!"

"So did thinking you could ever be more than a flirt with delusions of adequacy!"

Even those who didn't like Roisin could admit that calling her stupid was pure rubbish, and was fully deserving of a slap. Roisin, her eyes flashing, bypassed slapping and went straight to throwing a punch. Blaise dropped like a stone as the enraged girl turned on her heel and stalked out of the Common Room with Mary following, a group of Seventh-Years scrambling out of their way.

* * *

It was an average evening in the Gryffindor Common Room, so everyone was surprised when the portrait hole banged open to reveal Roisin and Mary O'Conner. What was even more surprising was that although Roisin was obviously in a towering fury, there were also tear-marks on her face.

Harry and Seamus O'Conner, along with Parvati, Hermione and a few of the more open-minded or observant Gryffindors, were over in a flash, guiding them to an empty couch near the fire. "Are you all right? What happened? What are you doing here?"

Roisin sniffed. "In order: Not even close. I had a break-up argument with Blaise and we're in the Black Books for telling Malfoy where to go when he was being more insufferable than usual. Do you have a spare couch or something where we can spend the night?"

A few of the older students began conjuring blankets as Harry looked at his cousin, or rather, at the tightly controlled way she was holding herself. His gaze switched back to Mary, who beckoned him away and explained in an undertone. "Malfoy was going on about Muggleborn and Half-Bloods being inferior. Roisin reminded him that the top of at least their year was a Muggleborn, and then Blaise pointed out that she was the offspring of a squib and a Muggle, so of course she'd stick up for her own kind. He even called her low-bred flirt 'with delusions of adequacy'."

Harry winced. However rocky things might be with Roisin's immediate biological family, she had never acted ashamed of her Muggle heritage, but merely avoided bringing it up to avoid conflict. That it had been openly pointed out, by her long-term boyfriend, no less, could not have gone down well. "Ouch. Do we need to hide any bodies?"

Overhearing, Roisin extracted herself from the well-meaning huddle of Gryffindor girls long enough to answer. "No bodies, but Blaise has a lovely black eye to show for it, and I'm not sure that the Malfoy line won't end with Draco." False, but certainly sounded impressive as an indication of how far things had fallen between the supposedly-formerly close group. "There's going to be lingering trouble over this, though."

Mary headed upstairs with Seamus as Katie Bell transfigured an armchair into a fold-out. Parvati and Lavender both gained a sympathetic and oddly business-like glint to their eyes as they joined Roisin and started whispering with her. Lavender might not have believed Harry about Voldemort, but such things were forgotten in the face of being unfairly dumped by a jerk.

Deciding that it would be better to claim ignorance of whatever they were talking about, Harry left them to it. He wasn't entirely sure why cataloguing the reasons that Blaise was stupid, nasty and pathetic, and all the curses they could use on him was supposed to be comforting, but it was clear that a corner of the Common Room was to be avoided.

Parvati might be beautiful, but if there was anything Hogwarts had taught Harry, it was that just because something or someone looked pretty, didn't mean that he/she/it couldn't kick your arse.

* * *

In retrospect, it wasn't the smartest of ideas. On the other hand, the past week had been more than a little upsetting, so Roisin considered herself perfectly justified for indulging in a bit of overdue teenage angst.

Being dumped by your boyfriend and having half the house turn on you was enough to put Roisin in a very despondent mood, (though it may have also had something to do with the rum-and-raisin ice cream Lavender produced as comfort food) and it showed when she wrote to Yelena after the Gryffindor Girls had finally fallen asleep in the early morning, figuring that since the cat was out of the bag anyway, she might as well tell her Durmstrang friend, and get all the abandonment over at once.

Swahili was an excellent language for being less than polite to people in, so it had not been quite pure chance that Roisin had been wearing her translation charm when the howler arrived two days later. Harry, who had been sitting several seats down from Roisin, had glanced up in resigned expectation (there was still the occasional Ministry-supportive idiot who thought that sending Howlers made them somehow important), then looked confused when it landed in front of Roisin. "I thought your family didn't believe in sending Howlers."

The O'Conner's didn't, as they believed that Howlers inconvenienced everyone within hearing range, rather than just the addressee, and anything that could be shouted could be written or angrily spoken. Looking down at the letter, Roisin thought it better to just get things over with, bracing herself. "They don't. This is probably from Yelena."

It was, as the Russian-accented voice was even more unmistakable at sound-levels that shook the rafters and sent Muggle-Born First-Years screaming and diving for cover.

"ROISIN O'CONNER! OR DURSLEY, OR WHATEVER!

DO YOU THINK SO LITTLE OF ME THAT I WOULD CAST ASIDE OUR FRIENDSHIP BECAUSE OF YOUR ANCESTORY? ОСОБЕННО УЧИТЫВАЯ МОЙ СОБСТВЕННЫЙ ANCESTORY! Я ОЖИДАЮ, ЧТО ВЫ НАПИШУТ МНЕ НАЗАД НЕМЕДЛЕННО С ДАТОЙ ВАШЕГО СЛЕДУЮЩЕГО ПОСЕЩЕНИЯ HOGSMEADE, ТАК, ЧТОБЫ я МОГ ПРИЕХАТЬ ТАМ И ИСПРАВИТЬ ВАШИ ВПЕЧАТЛЕНИЯ ДОЛЖНЫМ ОБРАЗОМ!"

Very few, if any, of those who inhabited Hogwarts, spoke enough Russian to interpret that, aside from the occasional non-translatable word, (one of the kinks that Roisin had yet to work out) and translation charms only worked on the written word, unless it was cast while the person was speaking, which was rather difficult when the yelling was conveyed through a howler and your hands were busy covering your ears to cast a spell in the first place.

Millicent, large and bulky enough to defend herself from highly-strung Gryffindors, came over to deliver Roisin's school bag, as Roisin was seated at the Gryffindor table, and said that Roisin owed her a rune-spell with some kind of sound-shield against any future howlers. Surrounded by girls from the other three Houses (who had been informed when Parvati sent a Padma a note via a magically-linked journal, and Padma had been sitting with Susan Bones in the library), Roisin thanked her larger friend, who had given her a smile and a pat on the shoulder that nearly knocked the other girl flat before heading back to the Slytherin table just as the rest of the post arrived.

Opening a letter from her Grandmother and the accompanying package of Godiva's finest, (the best thing about being a girl was that there were times when chocolate really _could_ solve everything) Roisin smiled at the deliberately casual news of what Fionna had been doing. There had been no mention of Order Business, but they had apparently managed to stop a few attacks and even managed to get Amelia Bones in to unofficially question and arrest the attackers they caught, despite Dumbledore's protests that everyone deserved a second chance to stay in the Light. And a fourth and a fifth chance, while Dumbledore was perfectly happy to sacrifice the lives, liberty or happiness of his own forces 'For the Greater Good'.

No one had any illusions of how long the captured Death Eaters would stay in a Ministry Holding Cell, but discreet tracking charms showed that after 'escaping' or being cleared, most of them had fled the country rather than stay and face their master's wrath.

Finishing the letter and putting it aside, she picked up the letter from her Aunt Nessa. Reading the first few lines, Roisin nearly dropped it in surprise.

It contained a rather surprised note from Nessa, which, in turn, enclosed a letter from Dudley! The Dursleys had no access to an Owl, and therefore had sent the letter to the O'Conners, with a request to forward it to Roisin.

The letter was brief, which was to be expected, saying only that he hoped she was all right, and that the people who sent the 'Dementoids' after him and Harry hadn't tried to get her as well. He also asked how her friends were, and if all of them were as hyperactively crazed as Desdemona. At the bottom of the letter was a post-script from her parents, stating that while they had been distant, it was mostly because they didn't know how to react to having an 'abnormal-but-not-always-in-a-bad-way' daughter, but the attack on Dudley had pointed out that there was no shortage of dangers in 'That World', and perhaps it was time for them to get to know about her life at school. She was still their daughter, after all.

Absently wondering if the House Elves had slipped something into dinner and this was just a vivid and highly unusual dream, Roisin offered the owl some ham, moving her plate out of the way as she quickly wrote a letter back before she could think better of it and change her mind. If this change of nature was really happening, then she didn't want to overload them too much.

The first thing to do was to own up to her own culpability in the matter. Her family had taken to ignoring her when they found out she was a witch, but she hadn't really tried to restore any semblance of connection, either. If anything, there had been points when she had practically rubbed their faces in the fact that she was a witch, for no reason other than she could and because she knew it would upset them. It was time to fix that.

So, an apology for her past behavior, but what else to write? Hm, mentions of magic, balanced by enough 'normal-ish' content to keep them comfortable. She briefly covered what the Fifth-Years were doing in class, and her pride about being a prefect. She complained about Umbridge and 'those bloody moving staircases never letting you get to class on time'. She described Luna and her other friends, and asked her mother for advice about dealing with Blaise.

She didn't have time for anything else, so she sent the letter off with the owl, and reminded herself to write to her grandmother at the next opportunity.

* * *

Fionna had been equally stunned, though a bit wary, when Roisin told her the news, but also took it as a good sign. In the Grand Scheme of things, Roisin was not important enough for Voldemort to take the trouble of finding the Dursleys and getting through the wards just to set a trap of some kind do capture her. As such, the letter was almost certainly genuine, and Fionna offered to send an owl to 4 Privet Drive every week, in order for the Dursleys to send a letter without having to post it to the O'Conner Keep first.

The first of the reconciling correspondence was again short, but it made Roisin smile, as it contained a rant about what happened when the politicians tried to poke their noses into the schooling system, especially when most of them had no idea what they were doing. Rose barely restrained a laugh: that was so obviously her father. Dudley asked if the moving staircases were like escalators, and what else they had studied in Care of Magical Creatures. (Roisin sent back her copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, as Erin had accidentally bought two copies when shopping at Diagon Alley).

Petunia had clearly been thrilled that her daughter was at least going through something normal, with Parvati's love of fashion and clothing, and was glad to be able to help with Boy Troubles. More surprisingly, she acknowledged that Luna's eccentricity might not be a bad thing, but Roisin should remember to keep her head in the right place. Either Roisin's mother was remembering the days before Aunt Lily went to Hogwarts, or she was trying a lot harder than anyone had any right to expect.

At the Yule Ball last year, Roisin had talked Dean Thomas into drawing a picture of the Slytherin Girls all dressed up, and a quick sketch of her and Blaise. The Gryffindor boy was a very talented artist, and with the current inter-house political climate, Roisin was sure she could convince him to draw a few things for her. The discovery that Magical people could also be gifted in 'Normal' things might help her parents, too.

Sitting down at her desk and hoping that she wasn't pushing too fast or too hard, Roisin put off her homework to write a reply.

_Dear Mum, Dad and Dudley,_

_School continues as usual, and Blaise is still being a git, as is most of the rest of the House._

_I suppose I can understand, to an extent. It's the first time in far too long that the Highest or Second-Highest authority will take our side, rather than automatically blame us for everything short of bad weather, so everyone is testing the limits. Unfortunately, Umbridge doesn't seem to know the existence of the word 'limit', much less it's meaning, so the result boils down to 'Slytherins running unchecked and making everyone else angry at us', and Umbridge can't be everywhere when the other students decide we need to be taken down a peg or three._

_That's one reason everyone is treating me like an outcast. I'm taking advantage of that to gain sympathy from the other Houses, because there hasn't been one Defense teacher in well over two decades who has lasted more than a year, and Umbridge is unlikely to be the exception. Why does no one else grasp the idea that when she is gone, our current behavior is going to bite us in the backside, hard, and in the meantime, I'm being pranked and cursed a lot less than they are? I thought Slytherin was supposed to be the cunning and ambitious house!_

_The really annoying bit is that it started as my own idea, to keep Umbridge off our backs by pretending to support her, and having a few people openly against her so the rest of the school wouldn't try to curse us on sight. The other Prefects agreed and we even used small words to get it through to the others, so __how__ did this manage to backfire so badly? My properly-thought-through plans usually work a lot better than this!_

_Cedric compared the situation to salmon and limpets. He was probably just trying to make me feel better, but it was unexpectedly flowery. He said that I (and the few others on my side) was like the salmon, which swim against the flow of the river to reach our destination, never faltering in sight of our goal. Limpets cling to others to survive, but when a ship goes down, or is smashed, so are they._

_It was nice of him, but he received some very odd looks._

_The teachers are in agreement that at least Slytherin House has one good and competent prefect, though which one it is depends on who you ask. Professors Umbridge and Snape are playing favourites with Draco, while the others seem to appreciate that I am at least taking my duties seriously, Slytherin or not._

_Being a prefect will serve me well in later life, especially when I am looking for a well-paying job, but there are times that I want to throw up my hands and be done with it. Only yesterday I caught an older student teaching my First Years to sing '__A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End'_

_It means nothing to those with no grasp of Muggle culture or literature, but is actually a very rude drinking song from the Discworld Series. A fact which I was forced to explain to said First Years in quite possibly the most awkward and embarrassing conversation of my life._

_Luckily, the culprit was a Gryffindor, so Hermione was the one who had to explain it to the Professors when I handed him over to her for punishment. She has yet to stop going pink and glaring at me. _

_Sorry the letter is short, but I have three sixteen inch essays due in two days, and I'm still three inches short on two of them. OWL year (think of them as O-Levels) is packed. How are things at home?_

_P.S. Do you still have that book on Victorian flower language? Neville Longbottom, who is very gifted in Herbology of all and any kinds, gave me a Daphne Odora in his own attempt to cheer me up, though he says it is also from the Gryffindor Girls, and I want to look up the meaning._

_P.P.S. I'm sending a picture that Millie's date sketched of my Dorm mates and me at the Yule Ball last year. I'll tell you more about it next time I see you._

That was a good attempt at easing them into things, wasn't it? The kind of school-related complaints that every teenager delivered to their families, when they were smart enough not to bother complaining to the teachers and their friends were sick of listening to it. Even so, Roisin worried about it until the next letter came. This one was largely from her mother, though her father and brother had added their own shorter messages.

_Dear Roisin,_

_Everything is quiet over here, with most of the children away at school, whether boarding or day. Do you remember that girl you used to be friends with, Lorna? Well, it turns out that she's pregnant, and found out three weeks after her boyfriend broke up with her. I heard it from Mrs. Black, who heard it from Lorna's aunt, who heard it from her sister-in law. It is quite the scandal._

_I'm sure things will pick up eventually. Some of the teachers appear to be on your side, and if or when this Professor Umbridge departs, your conduct will be remembered as better. Those who are followers by nature will try to attach themselves to you, and you can use that._

_This Cedric and Neville sound like very nice boys. How are you acquainted with each other? As I said, your ex-boyfriend is not the only fish in the sea, and your first love isn't necessarily the only one you will love._

_I asked Mrs Green, at number ten, about that song at our Garden Club meeting. She was good enough to elaborate, after she stopped laughing, and said that at least it wasn't the Hedgehog Song. Given the colour the Sales Lady at the bookshop turned when I asked about the Hedgehog Song, I'm not sure I want to know._

_Mrs Brown, from 8 Magnolia Crescent, hopes that the student was appropriately punished._

_I also showed them the picture of you and your friends, though I said that it was a Themed Ball. You all look lovely, and I must compliment the artist. You say it was a boy in your year?_

_Dudley is doing well at Boxing, and wrote that the book on Potions from your First Year is actually helping in his science class, so his grades are picking up. He has enclosed his own letter_

_A Daphne Odora means __**'I would have you no other way**__' but I am sending you the book just in case. I will turn the letter over to your father now._

The section from Roisin's father was somewhat shorter, but the men of her family had never been very talkative in any situation.

_Dear Roisin,_

_How are you? We are all recovering from the attack by the Dementowhatsits, but getting better. Work is busy, as we are negotiating a very large contract with an overseas company. It is difficult, as most of the representatives have such strong accents, and others refuse to speak anything but their native language, but I'm working hard so that I can have the Christmas Holidays free. Perhaps you would like to come home for them?_

_I'm interested in hearing about these two boys. It sounds a lot like Petunia's stories of when that Potter fellow was trying to court your Aunt Lily, when they were still at school and she and Petunia were still under the same roof. You don't want to jump back in to things too quickly._

Wait, what? Courting? Cedric, who had only recently broken up, or Neville, who Roisin had barely even spoken to before this year, couldn't possibly be thinking of her like that. That was definitely something to be addressed in Roisin's next letter. She turned to the one from Dudley, furrowing her brow. Her brother's handwriting had not improved.

_Dear Roisin,_

_Hi. _

_It's good to talk to you again, but you know I'm not good at writing letters. Smeltings is tough, since it is O-Level year, but my Boxing Training is good stress-relief. The punching bag isn't doing nearly as well, though, with all of the boxers trying to work out the strain of schoolwork._

_Mum says that you're having some trouble with classmates at your school. I'd offer to come over and teach them not to mess with my sister, except I don't know where your school is or how to get there. Dad says that you'll probably come home for Christmas, so I'll see you then._

Oh, dear. Still, Roisin couldn't help smiling at the thought. Offering to beat someone up wasn't the best way of showing affection, but maybe that was just how brothers operated. Desdemona had been ranting at Mercrucio's audacity to try and threaten Theo over the summer, after all.

* * *

Letter writing cut into the time she set aside for going outdoors in order to breathe fresh air and see the sun between mountains of schoolwork, so she compromised by settling under a tree and pulled out her writing materials.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'd love to come home for Christmas, though Nana will probably want to see me for Wren Day. I'll be there for the rest of it, though._

_I'm enclosing a Translation rune-cluster to help with the communication issues at work. It doesn't translate slang, and won't do much about the accents, but it should help with speaking and understanding foreign languages. It isn't the same as actually learning the language, but it should work in a pinch. I've made it into a tie pin, so if anyone asks, just say that I made it as a school Art project and you're indulging me._

_Chocolate is supposed to help with the after effects of Dementors, but it's usually handed out immediately after, and I don't know what the effect, if any, it would have now. Sorry I can't be of more help with that. _

_I have a favour to ask. The Wizarding World has a race of – I suppose you could call them domestic servants, a bit like brownies or the elves in 'The Elves and The Shoemaker'. They are attached to families, and very loyal. Through a series of unfortunate events, one of them, Winky, lost the family she served, and is very unhappy, as in 'Clinical Depression' unhappy. I have to be of age before I can take her on and attach her to my family, but perhaps you could take her on officially, as my parents, until then? If nothing else, she can carry letters, and you won't have to wade through the mess in Dudley's room, or keep tripping over the book stacks in mine, trying to clean them every week. If it makes you uncomfortable, she can still spend most of her time here._

_Winky is convinced that I will be somehow helpless and fall ill if she isn't present to make me eat and sleep. It's sort of sweet, even if my Dorm-mates do complain about being included in Winky's determined care._

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: From personal experience, let me assure you that near-death experiences or other life-changing events have a way of affecting the way you see things, and that there is nothing worse than having someone die before you can apologize to them._

_My best friend and I had a massive fight six months ago, after which she actually said that we were no longer friends and she never wanted to see or speak to me again, and spent the intervening time not talking to each other. Recently, she nearly died and is going to be in the hospital for the foreseeable future. Friends don't give up on each other._

_Dudley actually apologizes to Harry in DH, upon realizing that they may never see each other again, despite the fact that he and Harry have hated each other their whole lives. From age zero to age eleven, Roisin was the somewhat spoiled only daughter/twin sister, and when Dementors are explained to the Dursleys, they are rightly horrified. Said previously-beloved daughter is part of the magical world and vulnerable to attack from creatures that suck out your soul. Harry can still go to heck as far as they care, but it's worth trying again with their daughter._

_You are all free to disagree with that idea, but that is the way I see it._

_Reviews are appreciated, but Flames are not. _


	70. Developments

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the associated characters. This should be obvious, but FF.n insists on making me admit it._

_Summary: See previous chapter._

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE**

_Dear Roisin,_

_I don't know if Dudley told you, but he offered to come to Scotland with a cricket bat and have a talk with that Zabini boy. If at all possible, please decline the offer, I don't want my son and your brother in the hospital after the cricket bat gets turned into a poisonous snake and bites him._

Roisin couldn't help but giggle at her mother's opening paragraph. She had been thinking almost exactly the same thing.

_As to your request, we are willing to give it a try, because it sounds like the poor thing is really suffering. However, it is more likely that we will – bond, did you say? – With this Winky, but only have her come over to clean on occasion, and she can stay with you at Hogwarts the rest of the time._

Not quite the bond between House Elf and family, but still better than Roisin could have hoped for, and it was only a temporary situation anyway.

_Anyway, I'm sorry to end the letter here, but I will write more soon._

_Love_

_Mummy and Dad._

Roisin's essay on the use of Moonstone in potions took longer than expected, though not due to any amount of real difficulty. Rather, it was using her essay as an excuse to sit in the Common Room and keep her ears open while pretending to be busy.

She didn't know how Draco found out that Hagrid had gone to seek an alliance with the giants, but he had, which meant that the Death Eaters were probably planning the same thing. The Death Eaters had also found out about Sirius being an Animagus, and that the Order was guarding something in the Department of Mysteries. Again, Roisin didn't know how they knew, but her next letter to Fionna said that Grimmauld Place obviously had a leaky roof, and they might want to fix that.

Yeah, it was a bit snarky, but she couldn't exactly say that they obviously had a spy in their mist, if the Death Eater's _children _had such detailed information on the Order of the Phoenix's plans and activities.

The next letter was one to Privet Drive, but she needed to do something first. "Winky, I need you for a moment."

The little House Elf appeared in a second, drying her hands on a dishcloth. "Yes, Miss Roisin, ma'am?"

Roisin took a deep breath. "I still have a year and a half before I can take you as my elf, but my family offered to bond you to them in the meantime, but let you stay at Hogwarts to look after me most of the time. Do you mind that compromise?"

Maybe Roisin should have brought someone with her when she asked Winky to accept a position as her House-Elf. If nothing else, they could have helped to pry the ecstatic little thing away from half-strangling her with a hug. "Miss Roisin ma'am is too generous and kind to Winky! Winky will be a good and faithful servant to Miss Roisin's family! Winky is a worthy elf and can look after Miss Roisin's family and Miss Roisin and Hogwarts at once!"

Finally extracting herself, Roisin tried to calm the little House Elf down. "That's wonderful, Winky. The only thing is, my family are Muggles, so you may need to compromise a bit while they get used to how the Magical World works, and you'll need to be extra-careful that the neighbours or company don't catch sight of you. Do you understand that?"

Winky nodded vigorously, and with the air that Roisin shouldn't even need to tell her something that went without saying. Biting back a smile, Roisin sent Winky to hand in her resignation, gave her the address of Roisin's house but asked her to wait until Roisin had finished her letter so Winky could take it with her, and promised to give Winky 'appropriate' House-Elf attire as soon as she returned home.

There was a store selling all cloths from tea-towels to handkerchiefs to bed linins not far from Kings Cross Station, and they did embroidery for an extra pound or two. It wouldn't take more than a few minutes to stop in after getting off the Hogwarts Express at the end of term.

Wearing the O'Conner crest would cause confusion, as Winky wouldn't be working at the Keep, and House-Elf Etiquette was very strict on that sort of thing, so Roisin's personalized seal would have to do for now. Hermione would throw a fit about Winky not being paid, which Roisin simply didn't have the time or patience to deal with this year, and Winky would throw a fit at the very suggestion of wages, which Roisin wasn't stupid enough to get on the wrong side of, so Roisin would compromise by paying Winky with room and board, with a tea-towel toga of the finest quality linin, and cotton for in winter. Silk might look fancier, but it was impractical for housework and for all their subservient attitude, no-one could pull off 'I-Can't-Believe-You-Are-Being-So-Silly' Looks like a House-Elf.

Smiling, Roisin went back to her letter.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Tell Dudley I said thanks for the offer, but while Blaise is clearly an idiot who wouldn't recognize a good thing if it punched him in the nose, he isn't stupid enough for us to find any way of pulling it off._

_In case you couldn't tell, the being delivering the letter is Winky. She's a bit enthusiastic, but that'll wear off. It's best to sit her down and work out some ground rules first._

_Traditionally, House Elves do everything around the house; cooking, cleaning, gardening, etc. If you want her to not do something, just explain that it is something you enjoy doing yourself, but she can help by washing the dishes or mowing the lawn or weeding. If you have a problem, send her back to me and I'll do my best to explain._

_Schoolwork this year is not a joke, and I foresee at least one nervous breakdown before the year is through. Add in weekly Prefect Reports, and I don't think I'll be seeing the sky outside of the greenhouses and Care of Magical Creatures until December!_

_Much love,_

_Roisin_

* * *

The plan of maintaining the illusion of separation was easier than expected. If nothing else, she had Harry, Parvati and Padma, and several Hufflepuffs to spend her time with. Hufflepuffs stuck together, so a friend to one was a friend to many. Also, it seemed that the Hufflepuff Prefects tried to encourage the First-Years to make friends among all four Houses, instead of just their own.

Usually, the other three Houses were less than receptive. This year, however, the Slytherins needed all of the friends and future allies they could get, so Roisin heartily encouraged the idea.

It was during one such Hufflepuff-Slytherin gathering, which the Prefects were quietly supervising without getting in the way, when Roisin brought up a sensitive topic. "I know that everyone is divided on the issue of whether or not Harry is telling the truth, but the dissenters are the only ones who seem willing to say anything about it."

Susan cut in. "Actually, most of Hufflepuff believes him. Cedric might not have seen the Dark Lord rise, but he did get a Killing Curse thrown at him by someone the Death Eaters addressed as 'My Lord', and he did get Portkeyed to a graveyard and saw Harry fighting him. Most of the House believes him, and if they believe Cedric, then it follows that Harry and Dumbledore are telling the truth, as well."

Oh. Well, that was certainly good. "That is a relief. The point is: I'm willing to stand up, but Harry's my cousin, so few people take me seriously. You don't have to if you think it puts you at risk, but it would help a lot if Harry had a bit more open support."

And the last sentance all but made certain that he would. Excessive bravery was for Gryffindors, but Hufflepuffs would never be accused of beingslow to stand behind a friend or someone they felt even a hint of loyalty to. Hufflepuffs really were far too easy.

* * *

It was one of the few times that Roisin was actually looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures. Unlike Hagrid, who cared more about the number of claws or poisonous fangs a Creature had (the more the better), Professor Grubbly-Plank was more likely to care about which creatures would help them pass their OWLs. Even if she didn't stay, they would at least have a foundation for what they needed to learn.

This fact was agreed upon by nearly everyone who took the subject, aside from Harry, Ron, a Hufflepuff who Hannah assured Roisin was just being contrary, and a fanatical Ravenclaw who liked dangerous things almost as much as Hagrid did. The current Third-Years had not yet had a class with Hagrid, and had been heard gloating that they knew the older students had been exaggerating when they had warned the then-Second-Years not to sign up for Care of Magical Creatures. Roisin hadn't had the heart to disillusion them.

Walking down with Parvati and Lavender, who were diplomatic enough to not be too enthusiastic about Hagrid's absence around the Trio, they reached Hagrid's cabin in short order, pulling out parchment as they waited for the others.

"Everyone here?" Barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, as the last of the two Houses that made up the class jogged up. "Let's crack on, then. Who can tell me what these creatures are called?"

Roisin tried to ignore Draco's mocking mimicry, though she did give a small smile as Pansy's shriek of laughter turned into a shriek of fright as the twigs on the table leaped into the air, revealing themselves to be what looked like a knobby sort of pixie made of wood. Parvati and Lavender squealed in delight, and found themselves included in the Professor's sharp reprimand. "Kindly keep your voices down, girls! So – anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"

As usual, Hermione's reply was both swift and correct. "Bowtruckles. They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

"Five points to Gryffindor," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

Roisin got in a second before Hermione this time, earning a nasty look from the other girl. "Fairy eggs, if they can find them. Otherwise, woodlice."

"Good, Miss O'Conner, five points to Slytherin. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree where a bowtruckle lives, it is a good idea to bring an offering of woodlice with you. They may not look dangerous, but if angered, they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which as you can see are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a bowtruckle – I have enough for one between three – you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

Roisin darted over to where Dean was standing as Seamus retrieved a bowtruckle. Dean was a good artist, while Roisin was not, and she didn't want to have to explain what her sketch actually was if it turned out to be unrecognizable as a bowtruckle.

Roisin lingered a few moments after class, to ask Professor Grubbly-Plank what she planned on covering over the year, and to hiss at Draco that he might want to consider cutting back on the taunts if he wanted to live to take his OWLs. Not liking that most of the others actually considered the wisdom of her words, Draco tried to give her detention with Umbridge and removed the points Roisin had won from Professor Grubbly-Plank.

Roisin wasn't too worried, as one Prefect issuing punishment to another had to be cleared by the Head Students and Head of House. She tossed her head and left, reaching Herbology just in time to hear Luna telling Harry that she believed in him and thought that he was telling the truth. Roisin appreciated it, but couldn't help but think that Luna wasn't doing herself any favors, and more than one person was laughing at her radish earrings. Luna's voice rose above them. "You can laugh, but people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Roisin didn't know about the Snorkack, but she remembered her father talking about another drill company that would have been a serious competitor if the Director hadn't wanted to name a new type of drill a 'Blibbering Humdinger', which resulted in no-one, especially not potential customers, taking them seriously. The company had been incorporated into Grunnings a year or so later.

Meanwhile, Roisin wished that Hermione was capable of keeping her mouth shut on occasion, or that there was a spell capable of _making_ her, one that couldn't be undone with a simple _finite incantium._ "Well, they were right, weren't they? There weren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Luna gave her a withering look. "Just because there weren't any _then,_ doesn't mean that there aren't any _now_, or in the _future_."

She flounced off, radish earrings swinging madly, and Roisin leveled a dark glare at everyone laughing. "Do you all mind not laughing at my friend?" She sent an extra glare at Parvati and Lavender, owing them a small grace for the previous evening. "I realize that the earrings do nothing for her complexion, but there's no need to be rude about it!"

She darted after Luna, but the other girl had vanished, and there was no use searching if Luna didn't want to be found. Roisin ran back to Herbology, just in time to slip through the greenhouse doors before Professor Sprout closed them and started with a lecture about the importance of OWLs.

* * *

Millicent's Transfiguration essay was only half-finished, and Desdemona and Theo were having 'couple time', which no one wanted to be within hearing range of. Left to her own devices, Roisin decided to go for a walk in the courtyard, where she promptly ran into Seamus Finnegan. "Are you going to take Potter's side and claim that You-Know-Who is back, as well?"

Roisin raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen him personally, but I certainly saw the Dark Mark when Death Eaters attacked one of our outings and killed two of my friends." She sat down on a bench. "Well, you look like you need to rant to someone, and I've nothing better to do. Out with it."

Seamus looked taken aback, but sat down next to her. In contrast to earlier, his tone had turned contemplative, almost wistful. "It wasn't meant to be like this. Hogwarts was meant to be safe, away from the Troubles. Mam doesn't want to believe that the same thing could be happening here, and I won't make things harder for her. You understand, don't you?"

Roisin had never lived in Muggle Ireland, beset by the civil war between North and South, but she did understand, a little. "I understand where you're coming from, to an extent. My Nana married an English Muggleborn, and my father is a Squib. To spare him, my grandparents moved totally into the Muggle World and never told him, until I got my Hogwarts letter. My mum is Lily Potter's sister, who scorns magic because she doesn't have it, but so wanted to go to Hogwarts when Aunt Lily told her about it. Umbridge found out, and then Blaise dumped me and most of my House, my 'family-away-from-family', won't even look at me, because suddenly I'm not 'pure' enough for them. I don't understand the Troubles, because my clan went into near-seclusion after the World War II bombings all but wiped them out, but I do know what it's like to go somewhere you think is away from everything bad, and then find out you were wrong."

Seamus nodded. "I suppose so. Ernie claims that he and his family stand by Dumbledore, and Dumbledore supports what Potter is saying. You just… you just don't want it to be true. You don't want to think that You-Know-Who might be back, you know?"

Roisin nodded, thinking that now was a good time to keep her opinions about Dumbledore to herself. "I also don't want it to be true that I nearly got killed by Death Eaters twick, or that two people not much older than I am lost their lives for refusing to support the Dark Lord. I don't want it to be true that Sorcha was pregnant at the time, or that at least twelve children in my Clan are traumatized by and still having nightmares about the attack. But not wanting it to be real doesn't make it any less so."

Seamus nodded, quoting an old proverb. "As they say: 'Truth is truth, however hard the hearing'. I appreciate you listening to me, but I need to think on this. Do you mind?"

Roisin got the hint, and stood up to leave. The Quidditch Pitch would be empty for another few hours, and if no-one kicked her out, she could laugh at the Gryffindor Keeper try-outs.

* * *

Roisin was too proud and conscientious to resort to a shouting match (the break-up fight with Blaise an exception), and had spent too much of her life restraining herself from throwing tantrums to start now.

However, she was still very, very good at making it quietly known when she was displeased about something. Draco had not-quite-apologized for giving Roisin detention with Umbridge when he belatedly realized that Snape would skewer him for taking points away from Slytherin. Professor Trelawney had stepped in and taken over the detention, probably just to spite Umbridge, but two hours of polishing crystal balls while trying not to choke on incense and listening to the Professor babble about Doom and Gloom had not left Roisin in a forgiving mood.

She had given him a pointed look and viciously stabbed the butter. She completed the assigned work in DADA with the air of one who was indulging a particularly slow child by playing along with them. A thousand little things that were not quite disobedience or disrespect, but clearly conveyed the intent.

It was almost childish, but Roisin would take whatever small victories she could get.

_Hp_

_Hp_

_Hp_

_Hp_

* * *

_A/N: A short chapter, but since I've posted three in about a week, I think you'll do fine._

_In the book, Draco was being a bit too over the top in his antagonism before Umbridge was appointed the High Inquisitor, enough that a few of the older years would have taken him for a quick chat behind the gym in any other school, no matter who his father was, hence Roisin telling him to calm down._

_It wouldn't look good if a Prefect had detention, since they are supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the students. Also, Prefects have equal power to each other, so while they could be disciplined by a teacher or Head Girl/Boy, I think that they would have to clear the punishment with a higher authority, especially if the two prefects seemed to be at odds._

_I'm not begging for reviews, but it is good to know how people think I'm doing. Constructive Criticism is appreciated, but Flames are not._

_Thanks, Nat._


	71. More Bad News

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY**

Teenage boys were idiots.

There was no other explanation.

Harry and Aislinn had kept up their correspondence since summer, which had Roisin seriously considering a future relationship between her cousin and someone who didn't give a damn about Fame and the Boy-Who-Lived.

Now, it seemed like Aislinn had a boy interested in her, but didn't know if she should go for it, and included the news in her letter, in what Roisin considered the biggest hint-drop in the history of the world. Why not use a sledgehammer while you're at it?

Unfortunately, Harry was not so perceptive, and was clueless enough to actually write back and tell Aislinn to go for it, if the boy seemed interested. Surreptitiously trying to read the letter Harry was writing as they worked on the Herbology essay of the week, Roisin very nearly cried.

Also, she was really going to have to find out why everyone thought she was the person to talk to about her cousin's love life.

If it wasn't Ginny alternating between viewing Roisin as a threat or as an advocate for her claim of being the perfect girl for Harry (which Roisin didn't understand, as Ginny was supposedly dating a Ravenclaw by the name of Michael Corner), it was assorted fan-girls, though there were less of them this year, and most of them usually got the idea after a few hexes.

Now it was Cho.

Cho, Roisin thought she understood, to an extent. Cho had reportedly been miserable after her break-up with Cedric, according to one of Roisin's First-Years, who was a cousin of some kind, but had no-one to really talk to about it. Her best friend had a mother who worked at the Ministry, and was therefore too frightened to say anything in support of Cedric in case it got back to Umbridge. The others either believed the _Daily Prophet_, or were fed up of listening to Cho mope about it.

Cho believed that Voldemort was back, but, like all Ravenclaws, wanted the facts confirmed by an eye-witness. Harry was the eye-witness, and there was apparently some measure of attraction there. According to Jia Li, Cho liked the brave, steadfast, and honest to a worrying fault type. Besides, Roisin knew from last year that Harry had an abiding crush on Cho, though he had never acted on it.

Right now, however, Roisin had homework to do and a House to protect, which accounted for her slightly snappy reply. "Contrary to popular opinion, Harry does not tell me everything, about his love-life or anything else. Talk to him, or just ask him to Hogsmeade or something, because there really isn't much I can do."

Waiting just long enough for Cho to nod in understanding, Roisin quickly left before the Ravenclaw could ask anything else. Roisin had run into the other girl on the way back to the Common Room, as she had received a letter from her family, and as most people would be out enjoying the sunshine, practising for Quidditch try-outs, or studying in the library, now was the best time for a bit of peace and quiet.

* * *

The letter was again not much, just a description of what was happening at Privet Drive and the details of a slight clash with Winky, mostly over shock at her sudden method of entrance and physical appearance, and a bit about the enthusiasm with which Winky took to her tasks and being repeatedly informed that it was an honour and a pleasure to be working for 'Miss Roisin, ma'am's family'.

Roisin's parents had never been shy about praising her and Dudley to the skies and beyond, but perhaps it was a bit un-nerving to hear it from a two-foot-tall House Elf who was possibly even more enraptured than they were.

Writing back quickly, promising that Winky would probably settle down soon, and that she would talk to her if it became an actual problem, and apologizing for the lack of real news, Roisin sealed the letter and slipped it into her bag to post later.

Having finished that, Roisin banished an extra log onto the fire and picked up her Astronomy and Ancient Runes essays, summoning a Muggle Astrology book from her Dorm. Regardless of what Wizards might like to think, Muggles were a lot more advanced in several areas, Astrological Science being one of them. While they were restricted to magical textbooks in class, Half-Blood Professor Sinistra only assigned textbooks written by Muggle-Borns who had a degree in the Muggle world, and appreciated details that the Wizarding World as a whole had yet to discover. For example, the Pureblood-written Astronomy textbook made no mention of Io having volcanoes, or of Europa being covered in ice. (Pansy had once compared the two, out of sheer curiosity). Also, Roisin would be willing to bet that most wizards and witches didn't even know what a magnetic field _was_; much less that Ganymede was the only known non-planet to have one.

Given Draco's tendency to fall asleep in class (it _was_ held in the middle of the night, and half the time, he had Patrol immediately before), the Muggle book might help to improve his marks, but Roisin knew better than to bother suggesting it.

She was half-way through her Ancient Runes assignments (An essay on what they had learned in the course so far, and how they expected Ancient Runes to be of a practical use in life) when the other students started to trickle back in. Desdemona flopped down next to her, with Roisin barely managing to move her Astronomy homework in time. "Gryffindor is doomed."

With Umbridge around, that had been obvious since the start of term. "And this is somehow news to anyone? They've been doomed ever since Umbridge decided that she didn't like them."

Draco joined them. "She means the Quidditch team. The best choice for Keeper was a girl who had about five other clubs going, and would pick one of them over Quidditch if meeting times clashed, so they got stuck with Weasley, who has some serious performance issues. All we had to do was stand there and jeer, and he couldn't save a thing. He's going to be useless in front of an actual crowd."

Well, Gryffindor still had some pretty good Chasers, the Twins had some of the best Beater co-ordination Roisin had ever seen, and Harry was a top-notch Seeker, so maybe they weren't completely lost. Besides, there was always a chance that Ron would improve, and Roisin wasn't all that interested in Quidditch anyway.

She quickly changed the subject. "Do you have all of your homework finished? Draco, some of the First-Years were having trouble with Charms and Transfiguration, which one do you want to help them with?"

Draco looked unhappy. "I still have five inches on Astronomy and Government to finish. Why do I need to help them? Can't you do it?"

Roisin glared. Well, if that was how he was going to be about it… "Fine, you can do Transfiguration, and don't forget to put it in your report for the week. I've still got half of my Ancient Runes essay to finish, and if I can do it, so can you."

* * *

Tutoring the First-Years took until past Curfew, so Roisin had to wait until the next morning to post her letter, and hadn't even made it to the Great Hall before she ran into Amanda, Draco and the other Prefects, who swept her along back to the Head Boy's room for an emergency meeting.

Apparently, Draco had been the only one to actually eat before he suggested the meeting, so he started talking as Roisin grumpily summoned a House Elf to get breakfast for everyone else. "Everyone, we have a problem. Listen to this."

He pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet,_ which showed a large picture of Umbridge's toad-like face, and started reading.

_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM_

_DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED_

_FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_

Amanda, who had just bitten into a piece of toast, choked and was thumped on the back by Antony. Roisin's gulp of water went down the wrong way, cutting off she shriek of disbelief and making her cough as she stared at Draco with wide eyes. High Inquisitor had several very negative implications, all spelling DANGER for anyone who didn't conform. Draco nodded grimly. "Yes, it is that bad, and it gets worse.

"Ahem. '_In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"_The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for quite some time," says Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel that the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of."_

_This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has used new laws to effect improvements to the Wizarding School. As recently as 30__th__ August, Educational Degree Number twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide and candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person._

"_That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge, and of course, she's been an immediate success –'"_

Whether they were eating or not, the last sentence caused everyone to choke. A success according to whom? Even those who were pretending to side with Umbridge thought that she was useless as a teacher!

Draco continued reading. "_– an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts'_ - and not in a good way, you stupid ponce – '_and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."_

_It is this latest function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Degree Number twenty-three, which creates the new position of High Inquisitor._

"_This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."_

_The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts._

"_I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr Lucius Malfoy, speaking from his Wiltshire manor last night. "Many of us with our children's best interest at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions in the last few years, and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping tabs on the situation."'_

The bad thing was that Roisin couldn't really argue. There were times that Dumbledore had seemed to treat Hogwarts more like his personal playground, a place where he could do what he wanted without questioning, than as a school (The Philosopher's Stone and his favouritism of Gryffindor certainly came to mind, as did letting Hagrid go on with lessons about Skrewts, despite the many complaints and injuries), and Mr Malfoy had certainly phrased it in a way that made it difficult to argue.

"'_Among those _'eccentric decisions' _are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of were-wolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody._

_Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. "I think that the appointment of an Inquisitor is the first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence," said a Ministry insider last night._

_Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts._

"_Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore."'_

There's an implication about Marchbanks being linked to the Goblins on page seventeen, but that's beside the point."

Draco looked around; five pale faces staring back at him. Amanda collected herself, just as the bell rang for classes. "Right, everyone think on this and a plan of action, and we'll meet here at lunch."

* * *

Dismissed, Roisin and Draco grabbed their bags and all but ran to History of Magic, using the excuse of being late to sit together and plan for what to do about the new High Inquisitor. Fortunately, Umbridge was not inspecting that class, nor was she in double Potions, where Roisin was relieved to see an EE at the top of her Moonstone essay.

"I have awarded you the grade you would have received had your presented this in your OWL," said Professor Snape, smirking as he swept through the classroom, passing back assignments. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination."

Professor Snape reached the front of the class and turned back to face them. "The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a D."

Roisin elbowed Draco sharply before he could say anything, seeing from their depressed expressions that Greg and Vince had been among those who had received a D or worse. Determined not to let them fail twice in a row, Roisin discreetly switched with Vince, leaving him with Draco as she joined Greg, carefully going over each instruction twice and three times before she let him do anything.

By the end of the class, Roisin's Strengthening Solution was closer to aquamarine than to the bright turquoise it was supposed to be, but the extra credit for helping would make up for that. Greg's potion was a dark sapphire, but at least it was blue, and if it was a bit thinner than desired, it was not enough to make much of a difference.

* * *

Winky showed up with lunch this time, even bringing glasses of Muggle soda, as Pumpkin Juice did get old eventually, and there weren't many other options. Ironically, the introduction of the fizzy drink would probably do more for wizard-Muggle relations than any class or law, at least as far as the younger generation was concerned. Maybe Roisin could get her parents to send over some other sweets…

The topic of what to do about the new post of High Inquisitor quickly took priority, however, and they got down to business.

Ophelia started. "I think our biggest problem is figuring out what Umbridge plans to do with her new power. She can make inspections, but does that give her total control over hiring and firing? She's the restraint on Dumbledore, but is there anything or anyone restraining her?"

Roisin considered. "So far, Filch is the only one who will actually support her, and the two of them aren't enough to keep the entire school under control. She'll need some kind of help, and I recommend that at least some of us be that 'Help'. If only to serve as an early-warning system."

Draco agreed. "Newly formed powers always need someone to back them up until they've solidified their position, and the owl I received from Father suggests that Umbridge will be looking for 'Student Volunteers'. He strongly advised that I be one of them."

Amanda and Antony concurred. "The Ministry can't justify bringing in enforcers from outside the school without serious protests, especially with that quote from Madam Marchbanks, but the Professors won't support her if they have even the slightest choice in the matter. Getting students to do her dirty work is about the only option Umbridge has."

Dimitri nodded. "There will probably be some educational degree or school notice in the next few days, and we'll know more then. Roisin, you'll have to keep out of it, but be ready with a good excuse beyond siding with your cousin. Draco, your year is under the closest watch, since you have Potter, and your family is high-profile, so you'd better be among the first to sign up."

Roisin nodded. "I'll say that I don't think I would be able to do the position justice, what with tutoring, Mentoring the First-Years, studying for OWLs, and so on. Umbridge will love an excuse to tell me how I'm inferior to the rest of you."

Ophelia agreed with her counterpart, offering another suggestion. "Everyone see if you can provoke a few people in the other Houses to sign up, or start rumours that they tried but were rejected, so that it looks like enlistment isn't limited to Slytherin."

There was at least one Ravenclaw Fourth-Year who was getting fed up with the painful consequences of trying and failing to bully Luna, (Roisin was still hexing them, and Luna was _good _with Anti-Theft charms and who would love to get Roisin back for it and every House had its share of short-sighted idiots. Phrased and delivered correctly, it shouldn't be too hard to get someone to think that joining up would be a good idea. Each House also had its incurable gossips, and rumour was the only thing that travelled faster than light.

Amanda checked her watch. "It's nearly time for afternoon classes. I suggest everyone try to keep quiet about Umbridge's new position until we know more. Oh, and I got the schedule for Professors Snape, Flitwick and McGonagall are being inspected." She pulled out a list that she had made, duplicated it, and passed it around. "Have fun!"

* * *

The meeting broke up, and the two Fifth-Years settled into the Common Room, Draco trying to finish off his Astronomy essay. "There are _four_ bodies in the first classification of Jupiter's moons, Draco, not five. Forgive me for asking, but your father seems to be writing to you a lot more this year than he did before. Usually it was your mother."

Draco looked up. "Thanks for that. Yes, Father is writing a lot more. It's mostly things to goad Potter with, to get him in as much trouble as possible and promote the image of him being unstable. I can't say I understand, though; why would Potter care about me saying that I know his Godfather is an Animagus? He had to register after he was cleared, so the information is available to anyone who bothers to look. Why would _anyone_ care than a few random adults are wandering around near the Department of Mysteries, when most of them have perfectly obvious reasons to be there?"

Roisin shrugged, making a mental note to add the bit about Voldemort knowing about the Order keeping watch on something in the Department of Mysteries in her next letter to Fionna. That was probably what the adults had been talking about when Tonks mentioned 'guard duty' the morning of Harry's trial. She pulled out her Ancient Runes notebook, using it as a cover to add a bit more to the letter she had written last night, including the new things she had learned.

She looked up when Draco started talking again, his voice a bit hesitant. "Mother is under a lot of strain. The Dark Lord is moving between several places right now, just in case any of the MLE manage to get a search warrant for any of his followers, and she's sure that he'll set up base in Malfoy Manor eventually, if only because it's the grandest. Also, you know how Mother is the youngest of three sisters?"

Roisin nodded, remembering the Black Tapestry at Grimmauld Place and the Wizarding Genealogy book she had found. "The oldest was disowned for marrying a Muggleborn, and the middle girl is Bellatrix LeStrange."

Draco grimaced. "Yes. Bellatrix wasn't the sanest person even when they were children, and over a decade with the Dementors can't have helped. Also, she puts the 'fan' in fanatic as far as the Dark Lord is concerned. Mother is scared of her, and scared of what she will do to Father for claiming Imperio after the last war, because it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord moves to break out his loyal followers."

Another thing to add to the letter, along with the possibility of Narcissa being willing to go against Voldemort if it was to protect her family. Roisin managed to keep a sympathetic expression on her face. "Pansy mentioned that your parents were a love match, not a friendship-and-convenience match like most of the Old Families. It must be hard, worrying about your family like that. It makes me glad that most of mine are back in Ireland, and I'm still worried about my parents and brother."

With a limited number of Purebloods in the UK, most of the more fanatical pureblood families were friendships for the sake of continuing the line, especially with political families who viewed marriage as just another bargaining chip. Draco looked puzzled for a moment over her last sentence, before his expression cleared. "Oh, right, you're Dad's a Squib and your mum is the sister of a Muggleborn. You know, it's really sad that we all somehow missed that for so long."

It was rather pathetic, really, but Roisin wasn't about to say that out loud. "I never made an issue of that, either, and I'm good at keeping secrets, so don't feel too bad." She changed the subject quickly, "Government must be tough this year, with the Ministry's latest actions. How many drafts do you have to edit before turning in an essay that doesn't boil down to "We Are Governed By Idiots Who Couldn't Find Their Own Backside With Both Hands And A Map"? It can't be easy."

It worked, and Draco burst out laughing, just as the bell rang. "Come on, we'd better get to Charms."

Roisin nodded. "You'd better hit me with a colour-changing charm or something before we run into anybody, or we'll have trouble explaining your good mood. Please stick to something that Professor Flitwick can reverse easily."

Hearing footsteps coming their way, Draco charmed her skin and clothing a hideous shade of orange, leaving her hair black. Roisin's evil glare was in no way feigned when Draco started laughing loudly, covering the false note with a loud jeer about being a Chudley Cannons supporter.

She had meant something like electric blue, not this! At least it was something that the Charms Professor could reverse, and the Gryffindors had Transfiguration, so there was no chance of Ron Weasley seeing and trying to recruit her.

* * *

Professor Flitwick had been inspected before lunch, and Roisin was disappointed to be in Charms when Professor McGonagall had been inspected, but she should be able to pry the details out of Hermione later that evening at dinner or in the Gryffindor Common Room, where Roisin planned to take her First-Years in an attempt to foster good relations, which were continually road-blocked by Ron Weasley's loud remarks about how Slytherins were evil and not to be trusted. Even so, Lucinda Brown and Sienna Patil would be happy to visit their relatives, and Roisin could talk to the brains of the trio then. Hermione hated Umbridge and had a great recollection for details, so a re-telling was better than nothing.

Consoling each other with the thought that they would at least get to see Professor Snape taking Umbridge on (Amanda had been giving a fortnightly report to the staff when the messages had arrived, and the pink stationary was difficult to miss, which was how she had known), and maybe one or two other teachers, the Slytherins headed off to Care of Magical Creatures. The conversation proved almost prophetic when they arrived in the paddock near the Forbidden Forest to see Professor Grubbly-Plank waiting for them, along with Umbridge, who was holding a little clip-board. Honestly, did the toad-woman own anything that wasn't a nauseating shade of pink?

They were continuing the lessons on Bowtruckles, and gathered around the trestle table where the creatures were gobbling down woodlice, looking like a moving pile of twigs. For once, the class was completely silent, listening intently as Umbridge questioned the relief Professor. "You do not usually take this class, is that correct?"

Professor Grubbly Plank had her arms clasped behind her back, and if she hadn't been lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet, Roisin would have been strongly reminded of a drill-sergeant she had once seen on the telly. "Quite correct. I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

Not everyone managed to be discreet as they exchanged uneasy looks. Most of the Gryffindors would stick up for Hagrid on principle, liking him as a person, if not as a professor, but several members of the class would be pleased if Professor Grubbly-Plank became a permanent fixture. Umbridge dropped her voice, though it was still quite audible. "I wonder – the Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter – can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?"

More than one person looked up eagerly, only to be disappointed by the Professor's breezy reply. "Afraid I can't. Don't know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore: would I like a few weeks of teaching work, and I accepted. That's as much as I know. Well… should I get started then?"

Umbridge was clearly annoyed at the dead end, but gathered herself. "Yes, please do."

She moved among the students, questioning them about lessons. While Hagrid preferred to focus on monsters, he did know what he was talking about when it came to the creatures they were supposed to be covering, so the class was able to answer most of the questions, to Umbridge's visible disappointment. As she came closer to the Slytherins, Draco murmured under his breath, "She's not best pleased with you right now, Roisin. You're going to have to say something bad about the oaf."

Regrettably, that wouldn't be hard. Draco moved away again just before Umbridge reached them. "What about you, Miss O'Conner? What is your opinion of Professor Hagrid compared to Professor Grubbly-Plank?"

That was better than Roisin had hoped. The last thing they needed was for Harry to overhear her say something truly negative and speak up, landing himself further in Umbridge's black books. "Well, obviously they have very different teaching styles, but so does every Professor. Professor Grubbly-Plank does explain things better, and she knows a lot about what she's teaching. I think Professor Hagrid had some kind of family issues to take care of, probably his father's side and I wouldn't mind if Professor Grubbly-Plank stayed on, to be honest."

Since Hagrid couldn't lie to save his life, that bit of information might keep her from questioning him when he eventually returned, and adding that it probably had to do with his father's side would stop people from automatically linking him to the Giants. It would stop also anyone short of Lucius Malfoy from making implications, unless they could come up with a very good reason to be visiting the Giant colonies in the first place. Professor Grubbly-Plank was easier to understand, even if she was a witch of few words, and since it was OWL year, Roisin would be happy to have her stay on. No lies and nothing that would cause outrage for anyone.

Umbridge moved on, finishing up with a lengthy interrogation of Dean Thomas, and finally returned to Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Overall, how do you, as a temporary member of staff – an objective observer, one might say – how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel that you get enough support from the school management?"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore's excellent," said Professor Grubbly-Plank heartily. "Yes, I'm very happy with the way things are run."

This was very clearly not what Umbridge needed, wanted or expected to hear. "What are you planning to cover this year – assuming that Professor Hagrid does not return?"

"Oh, I'll take them through what's usually covered in OWLs. Not much left to do – they've already covered Unicorns and Nifflers. I thought we'd study Porlocks and Kneazles, make sure they can recognize Crups and Knarls, you know…"

Umbridge made a very obvious tick on her clipboard. "Well, _you_ seem to know what you're doing, at any rate." Roisin wondered about the emphasis for a moment, but remembered that Desdemona had mentioned Professor Trelawney being inspected earlier that day. Almost no-one, even most of those who took Divination, believed that Professor Trelawney was anything but a melodramatic quack, so Roisin doubted that it could have gone well.

Meanwhile, Umbridge had turned to Greg again. "Now, I understand that there have been some injuries in this class?"

Except for the Flobberworms in Third-Year, where to begin? Draco answered on Greg's behalf. "Yes, that was me. I was slashed by a Hippogryff."

Seeing Harry open his mouth, Roisin cut in loudly, but made sure to keep an obvious teasing note in her voice, just in case. "Well, if you'd been listening to the instructions instead of trying to show off for Pansy…"

She got threatened with detention anyway, to be decided after the class, but since she had first patrol that night, and their counterpart Prefect was expected to pick up the slack if one was unable, she expected Draco would intervene, and he was Umbridge's favourite. Either way, it was better than Harry getting yet another detention because he couldn't keep his mouth shut while defending others.

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* * *

_A/N: 202 Alerts, 194 favourites, and only 8 reviews for last chapter. I'm not trying to whine or beg for reviews, but I don't get the serious discrepancy here, and I really do like to know what people think. Suggestions and comments on what a writer is doing wrong or what needs improving is the highest reward they can receive. It's helpful if you tell me that I'm getting people Out Of Character, or my depiction of someone is too close to bashing them._

_Anyway, the next chapter is up after a small delay (partially due to time zones while travelling home from visiting family for Christmas), and I hope you all enjoy it!_

_Thanks, Nat_


	72. Stories and Secrets

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. After seventy-two chapters, you'd think the site would stop making me say so._

_Summary: See previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE**

The newspapers that had been happy to print the previous interviews speaking against the Ministry and claiming that Voldemort was back were even happier with the possibility of interviewing the Boy-Who-Lived, when Roisin sent a letter about the idea. Better still, they were willing to do it for cheap. Actually, they probably would have done it for free, but it was never a good idea to put yourself in a position where you might owe an unspecified future favour.

Umbridge was moving quickly, so those who opposed her would have to do the same. While Harry was clearly not quite as safe from the Ministry at Hogwarts as they had hoped, there was no law that allowed Umbridge to intercept and read other people's mail. Quite the opposite, in fact, as reading other people's mail was considered an invasion of privacy, no exceptions.

At least, no exceptions _yet_, which was why Roisin planned to do the interview on the very first Hogsmeade weekend, before Umbridge could find out and get the law passed. Since Harry was almost certainly being watched, legally or otherwise, Roisin told him about the idea and offered to do the organizing. A tiny rune-cluster sketched at the bottom of the page stopped the letter from being read by anyone other than the intended recipient, and several school owls went to various newspaper offices and one to Madam Rosmerta, reserving a private parlour.

Contrary to popular belief, Luna was capable of speaking and writing without a single mention of an as-yet-unknown creature, and would be attending as a reporter for the _Quibbler_. Of course, the conversation with Luna would have gone a lot faster if they were not being constantly interrupted.

First it was Cho, thanking her for the advice about asking Harry to Hogsmeade (drat, Roisin would have to work around that), shortly followed by Luna's dorm-mates trying to find a new way of harassing her. They quickly left after being threatened with a hexing, only to be replaced by Seamus Finnegan, asking if she was free to go to Hogsmeade that weekend.

Slightly taken aback, Roisin agreed to meet up at the Three Broomsticks, as there was no real need for her to be present at the interview. Within the next ten minutes after _him_, Cedric and Neville both approached with the exact same offer. Oddly, they looked relieved when told that she was already going with Seamus, making Roisin wonder if she should take offence.

Finally, she finished negotiating with Luna (whose airy manner went straight out the window when the business side of the _Quibbler_ was involved), and left to talk to Harry about it.

As it turned out, Cho and Harry, had both promised to spend time with friends before Cho had asked him out, so they had agreed on an early dinner before returning to Hogwarts. That would be fine, as students left for Hogsmeade at ten or eleven in the morning, and weren't expected back until seven in the evening, when dinner started. The reporters couldn't get there until two thirty, but an interview would take an hour or so at most, would leave plenty of time for Harry to meet Cho later.

Still, Roisin tried not to make more enemies that she had to, and decided to inform Cho, just in case. Spotting the Ravenclaw the next morning at breakfast, Roisin darted over. Harry had informed her that he and Cho were meeting up in Hogsmeade together for an early dinner, and since nothing ruined a date faster than an unwelcome and unscheduled interruption from one of the boy's female friends, Roisin needed to talk to the Ravenclaw. "Hey, Cho, do you have a minute?"

Cho looked understandably surprised, but nodded. "Great. I know you and Harry have something set up for the Hogsmeade weekend, but can I borrow him for an hour or so before the date?"

Cho's eyes narrowed slightly. "That depends on why."

There was no need to get territorial. "We needed to wait until Harry was back at Hogwarts, where it would be harder for the Ministry to touch him, before he could say anything about what happened That Night. Hogsmeade Visits are likely to be the only chance we get, I'm afraid."

Cho considered. "Fine. I think we're going to Madam Puddifoot's, but we won't be meeting until about five." Roisin nodded and turned to leave, but Cho stopped her. "By the way, thanks for asking me about it. Other girls would have simply ignored it and told Harry to meet with them, even if we were in the middle of a date."

Roisin could easily picture Hermione or Ginny doing just that, but thought it best not to comment. Of course, Hermione might have just told Harry to meet her, with Harry being tactless enough to say that he needed to go and meet another girl, without explaining why. Ginny, Roisin may have been a bit harsh about, as the girl's attitude rubbed her the wrong way, so she hadn't really spent any more time than absolutely necessary with the girl since their first meeting before Roisin's second year.

* * *

Blaise was still being an idiot, as he somehow found out that Roisin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Seamus, and threw a fit about 'being passed over for some half-blood Gryffindor'. Roisin told him to shut up, especially since he was the one who broke up with her, and therefore lost all right to complain about anything to do with her social life. The only part of it anyone else complained about was the fact that it took place in the Great Hall, which could have gone badly if Umbridge hadn't been detained elsewhere.

By Draco, ironically enough, who had make up something about hearing a few un-named Gryffindors plan some mischief while everyone was at breakfast, resulting in Umbridge staking out Gryffindor Tower, while everyone else enjoyed a Toad-free meal.

Gryffindor and Slytherin walked through Hogsmeade, enjoying the sunshine and absence of Umbridge, when Roisin finally asked the question. "So, why did you really ask me to go to Hogsmeade with you? I know you don't like me enough to make it a date."

Seamus avoided the question. "How did you – I mean, what makes you think I have an ulterior motive?"

Roisin gave him a flat look. "I'm a Slytherin, we're always looking for the ulterior motive. I'll get it out of you eventually."

Seamus gave it up. "Hermione said something about starting a Defence Study Group, and wanted to meet up in secret so Umbridge doesn't find out. We figured that you should probably come too, since you and Umbridge clearly hate each other."

Roisin nodded. "I take it that 'we' includes Neville and Cedric, and that's why all three of you asked me to Hogsmeade yesterday? Also why I had to put up with the others teasing me about being a boy-magnet?"

Seamus grinned at the thought. "I don't know about Diggory, but yeah, Neville will be there, too. We're meeting at the Hog's Head tavern."

And that part made no sense. "So, why are we having a secret meeting in the Hog's Head, which is full of shady characters, most of whom probably get drunk enough to tell their life story to a brick wall, rather than somewhere with privacy spells or somewhere open where we can see anyone coming to spy on us, or at least put up an alert without anyone asking uncomfortable questions?"

Seamus blinked, obviously not having thought of that. Before he could come up with an answer, however, they arrived at their destination.

The inside of the Hog's Head tavern was the very stereotype of what came to mind when someone mentioned a 'seedy pub'. Roisin exchanged glares with a weedy-looking wizard who was looking a bit too interested as they made their way to where a group of at least twenty Hogwarts students were gathered.

Roisin appeared to be the only Slytherin in attendance, though that was only to be expected. Drawing closer, Roisin was amused to see Harry giving Hermione a flat look. "A couple of people? _A couple of people?"_

His voice held a note of slight panic, suggesting to Roisin that Hermione had told him just enough to make him agree, or presented it as _fiat accompli_ only that morning, dropping the rest as the other students showed up. Either way, she didn't seem to notice Harry's dismay. "Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," she said happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

Ron did so as the Weasley Twins entered, detouring to the bar, where the barman had frozen in the act of cleaning. Taking one look at the dirty glass and dirtier rag being used to clean it, Roisin resolved to do something very nice for Professor McGonagall as she pulled a button off of her robe, transfiguring it into a goblet and handing it to be filled with Butterbeer.

The barman gave her a dark look, but didn't protest as Fred took a head-count and ordered another twenty-seven Butterbeers. Roisin passed a few sickles to the twins to pay and headed back to the rest of the group, sitting down next to Luna as the twins floated the Butterbeer bottles over and started passing them around. "Everyone pay up, we don't have enough to cover this ourselves…"

There was a quick delay as everyone paid up, sitting down and staring at Harry. Harry stared back, then seemed to realize something, and rounded on Hermione. "What have you been telling people? What are they expecting?"

Roisin probably shouldn't have felt so amused, but it was very hard as she watched Hermione attempt to be soothing. Finally, she stood up, looking even less comfortable at the idea of public speaking than Harry did. "Er… well – er – hi."

She paled as all eyes switched to her, though they kept darting back to Harry, waiting for him to speak. "Well – erm – well, you know why you're here. Erm… well, Harry had the idea – I mean," (Harry had thrown her a sharp look that proved Roisin's earlier theory about precisely who had come up with the meeting) "I had the idea – that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts – I mean, really study it, not just the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us –" (Her voice became stronger and more confident as she warmed to the subject) " – because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts – "

Anthony Goldstein gave a loud 'hear, hear', and several others murmured agreement. Hermione smiled at Anthony, causing Roisin to raise a quiet eyebrow, and continued. "Well, I thought it would be good if we took matters into our own hands."

She paused, giving Harry a brief sideways look, "And by that, I mean learning to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory, but in doing real spells."

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL, too, though, I bet." Michael Corner's quick grin indicated that he was making a joke, though Hermione took it at face value. "Of course I do. But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because… because," she took a deep breath, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

Roisin rolled her eyes at the usual chorus of involuntary yelps, twitches and shrieks, as all eyes turned to Harry. "Oh, pull yourselves together, it's only a name!"

Hermione ignored all of them, trying to finish her speech. "Well… that's the plan, anyway. If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to – "

She was cut off by a Hufflepuff whose name Roisin was probably going to need to learn, if only to shut him up on occasion. "Where's the proof that You-Know-Who is back?"

Cedric fixed the boy with a look before Hermione could reply. "I told you all what happened last term, and had you all over during the Summer to show you the memory in Dad's Pensive, Zacharias. What else are you asking for?"

Zacharias spluttered, but remained defiant. "Memories can be replaced without the subject knowing, and I want more than Dumbledore's word on it, that's all!"

Roisin decided to cut in. "I want more than Dumbledore's word, too, and I got it when a bunch of people in black robes and white masks showed up when I was on an outing with some others, telling us to support Voldemort or die. Two of my clan _did_ die, and the rest of our group barely escaped. The Dark Lord is back, and the next person who tries to call my cousin a liar _will_ get hexed!"

Hermione tried to drag things back on topic. "So, like I was saying… if you want to learn some real defence, we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to – "

She was cut off yet again, this time by Susan Bones, asking if Harry really could cast the Patronus Charm. When Harry admitted that he could, Lee Jordan looked deeply impressed. "Blimey, Harry! That's really advanced magic! I never knew you could do that!"

He shot a reproachful look at the Weasley Twins, who shrugged. "Mum told Ron not to spread it around. She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," Harry mumbled, drawing laughter from several students.

A heavily veiled witch shifted in her seat nearby, and Terry asked the next question. "Did you really kill a Basilisk with the sword in Dumbledore's office? That's what one of the portraits told me when I was in there last year."

Terry was almost as rule-obsessed as Hermione, and Roisin couldn't help but laugh. "What were _you_ doing in the Headmaster's office?"

Terry stammered, but both were ignored as Harry nodded and confirmed that, too, followed by more impressed muttering. Neville took up the cry. "And in our first year, he saved that Philological Stone – "

"Philosopher's!" Hermione hissed at him.

"Yes, that – from You-Know-Who."

Hannah Abbot's eyes were as wide as Galleons, and Cho joined in, her eyes and voice soft. "And that's not to mention all the tasks he had to go through last year in the Triwizard Tournament – getting past dragons and mer-people and Acromantula and things…"

Cedric scowled, a bit cross at being ignored as a Champion, and muttered darkly as he followed Roisin to the bar, buying several large jugs of Butterbeer, as many were running low, giving the Fire-whisky a longing look. Roisin elbowed him, "Underage students!"

They returned to find most people glaring at Zacharias, and one of the twins was pulling something long and unpleasant-looking out of a bag. Hermione hastily cut in before the situation could descend into actual violence. "Yes, well, moving on… the point is, are we agreed to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a general murmur of assent, and Hermione looked relieved that _something_ had been settled. "Right. Well, then, the next question is how often we're going to do it. I really don't think that there's any point meeting less than once a week – "

Angelina, Cho and Zacharias immediately cut in, demanding that meetings not interfere with Quidditch Practice. Roisin couldn't help but agree with Hermione's impatient tone, "I'm sure we can find a time that suits everyone, but, you know, this is rather important. We're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters – "

Honestly, Roisin was surprised that Ernie had managed to keep quiet for this long. "Well said! Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!" He looked around impressively, waiting for someone to protest that, and continued anyway. "I personally am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using spells – "

Ernie was a good orator, and would go on all day if you let him. Hermione clearly recognized this, too, and stepped in before he could really get going. "We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts is that she's got some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students as some kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Honestly, there were days that Roisin wouldn't mind trying it, and Dumbledore already had his private militia in the Order of the Phoenix. No-one outside of Cedric, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley's knew that, however, so they all looked stunned, and even more so when Luna spoke up. "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" Harry was the loudest, but certainly not the only one to respond to this matter-of-fact statement.

Luna was perfectly solemn, and Roisin inwardly winced. "Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths."

"No, he hasn't!" Hermione snapped.

"Yes, he has!" Luna scowled back.

"What are Heliopaths?" Neville asked, looking blank. Colin looked intrigued, fingering his ever-present camera.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna willingly explained. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground, burning everything in front of – "

"They don't exist!" Hermione snapped tartly.

Luna looked angry, a very rare sight. "Oh, yes they do!"

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" Hermione didn't sound very sorry.

Roisin attempted to break it up. "Isn't there something about Heliopaths in Classic Greek Mythology?" Helios was the titan who drove the Sun-Chariot, and it had to be pulled by _something._ "Besides, the Prophet doesn't tell you half of what goes on with experimental cross-breeding, and Fudge certainly has enough Yes-Men to qualify as an army."

It didn't work, though the arguing girls did acknowledge her. "Thank you! There are plenty of eye-witness accounts! Just because you're so narrow minded that you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you – "

Ginny managed a passing imitation of Umbridge, drawing everyone's attention. It was probably a very good one to everyone else, but there was enough mocking in the Slytherin Common Room that Roisin had become very good at telling the difference between a fake '_hem, hem'_ and the real thing. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we'll meet for defence lessons?"

Hermione grabbed the opportunity to get out of the argument before Luna could openly accuse her of being an oblivious and close-minded fool. "Yes, we were, thank you Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as – "

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," Hermione said tensely. "Well, the other thing to decided is where we're going to meet…"

That was a bit more difficult, especially if they wanted to keep it secret. "Library?" was Katie Bell's suggestion.

Roisin shook her head. "Too public, and Madam Pince would kill us if we started throwing spells around her precious books."

Dean was next. "An unused classroom?"

Cedric shot that down. "Are there any classrooms that would fit all of us? Maybe if we could find out who's on first Prefect Patrol near the Great Hall…"

Roisin disagreed. "Draco on Wednesdays, Ophelia on Tuesday and Friday, and Ravenclaw have Quidditch practice on Monday nights."

Michael blinked. "How did you know that?"

Roisin rolled her eyes. "I saw the Patrol roster, and Montague was complaining loudly about Ravenclaw getting that practice slot when it was the most convenient one for the Slytherin team. It's called strategic research."

There was a brief silence, broken by Hermione. "Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere. I'll send a message around when we have a time and place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag, pulling out parchment and a quill. "I – I think everybody should write their names down, just so we know who was here. I also think – well that we should all agree not to shout this around. If you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anyone else what we're up to."

Some signed at once, but others seemed more hesitant. Zacharias tried to say that Ernie would tell him when the meeting way, but Ernie also looked reluctant. "I – well, we are _Prefects._ And if this was found… well, I mean to say… you said it yourself, if Umbridge finds out…"

Harry reminded him that he himself had said that the Defence club was important, backed by Hermione's indignant demand if he thought that she would leave the list just lying around, which convinced Ernie to sign.

Roisin had another question. "What do you mean by 'anyone else'? What if we want to recruit others, or something?"

Zacharias gave her a sharp look. "Like who? Other Slytherins who'll sell us out?"

Roisin barely managed not to hex him. "Like Desdemona or my First-Years, who aren't going to take 'I picked it up somewhere' as an answer when I tutor them. Besides, I know that several of the upper-years duck in here at the end of a Hogsmeade weekend, and half the patrons will say anything to whoever is buying the next round. If I have to talk them out of spilling the beans to Umbridge in the hopes of being allowed to start their own group, I'd better be able to explain why."

She did have a point. "Look, I'll do all my talking tonight, and sign the list first thing tomorrow, and I swear on my badge or whatever else you like not to breath a word to Umbridge or anyone I think will automatically report to her."

Those prefects who pretended to support Umbridge didn't report anything without carefully discussing and weighing the benefits and drawbacks, and she did need time to talk to Desdemona and the First-Years. But, most of those present knew that she would keep her word, and reluctantly agreed.

The students trickled out in twos and threes, and Roisin nodded to Luna as she grabbed Harry. "I need to borrow you for that appointment we talked about. Don't worry, you'll be out in time to meet Cho for your date."

He followed her, leaving Ron and Hermione alone for a bit. "How many people am I talking to?"

Roisin kept her voice low, just in case. "A representative from each of the papers that did the interviews over the summer, and Luna will be reporting for the _Quibbler._ Don't worry, you just need to tell them what happened, and they'll do the rest. You need to sign a contract saying that it is the truth as far as you know it, and they'll sign one to report the story with no falsehoods, Quick-Quotes Quills or needless embellishments. I hired a private parlour in the Three Broomsticks, so you don't have to worry about eavesdroppers."

Harry blinked. "That's actually pretty well thought out. Thanks. Ah, do you think they'll mind if Cho sits in? I do sort of owe her the story, but it isn't something I want to tell twice."

Roisin shrugged. "That should be fine, as long as you keep the non-reporting audience to a minimum. They already have my Pensive memory of the events from the story they ran over the summer, so I'll introduce you and leave you to it. I have other shopping to do."

* * *

She hadn't been lying. She needed to go to Flourish and Blotts for extra parchment, both because she was running low and because she sensed that there would be an underground student market for recipient-only parchment in the near future, like the rune-cluster she had used in her letters to the assorted Newspapers.

She also picked up a quill that stopped the used from writing an untruth, for when she talked to the other Slytherins. She trusted their word, but no one else would, so she would need something to show Hermione if she still wanted to be included in the Defence group. A contract like the one news interviewees signed, and a truth-telling quill, should cover it.

Seamus bought her lunch at the Three Broomsticks anyway, even if it wasn't a date, and they spent the rest of the afternoon just wandering around and talking, before they headed back to the castle.

Breathing in the smell of dinner wafting out of the Great Hall, Roisin couldn't help but smile. All in all, it had been a good day.

* * *

Amanda, who had been in the Hog's Head (heavily veiled so as to not be recognized when she went down for a quick and well-deserved drink) when the new Defence club had first met, spoke up. "We know about the new club, and Umbridge probably has informants all over Hogsmeade. What do we do, and which idiot decided to hold a secret meeting in a pub that is always being watched by _someone_, and whose patrons will say anything to whoever offers to buy the next round?"

Roisin shrugged, having mentioned the same thing to Seamus. "Probably Hermione, that girl has no sense of subtle. Officially, none of you were there to see it, and Umbridge knows that I wouldn't give her the true time of day, much less any useful information. I say that you pretend ignorance for as long as possible."

Dimitri scowled, but not at Roisin. "What annoys me is that it's a good idea, but Umbridge will never allow us to copy it officially, no matter who asks, and it's not like we can go and ask to join them, either."

Everyone fixed Roisin with an expectant look. Unfortunately, there was no way that Roisin could fit unofficial practical Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons into her schedule, especially with everything else she had to do. Still, it wasn't like she could do nothing, either. "I'll copy down what spells we're learning, you can study the theory, and I'll get Desdemona to demonstrate it. There's just no way I can do the teaching myself, with everything else I've got going on."

Ophelia shrugged. "That's as good as we'll get, I suppose. I refuse to be a Prefect in a year where Slytherin is the only House to collectively fail Defence."

Antony, seated on the couch, slumped back. "To be fair, some of the Ravenclaws are competitive enough not to share any practical Defence they pick up with their House-mates, but I agree with your point."

Roisin pulled out a piece of parchment and a legal-grade quill she had purchased in Hogsmeade. "Sorry about this, but I have to make you sign something to the effect that you will pretend ignorance and not speak of the club to Umbridge or any of the teachers, who might be forced to report it. If asked about any improvements in Defence – which you shouldn't, since we still aren't practicing with wands - you'll say that you were being tutored. I'm making Desdemona and the First-Years sign it as well, so don't take it personally."

No-one was particularly happy about that, but they did see the need, and signed the contract. Draco paused for a moment when his turn came. "Ah – you will be hiding this somewhere safe, right? As in, where Umbridge can't find it even if she searches you?"

Roisin gave her a look. "How daft do you think I am? No, I'm going to show Hermione as proof and then send it home with my next letter. Umbridge won't be able to search there, no matter how hard she tries."

Draco signed, and Roisin went to find Desdemona and the First-Years, to tell them and make them sign the parchment. Not two months into the school year, and things were already far too complicated.

* * *

At the Ravenclaw table, Cho was looking much happier, having finally heard the whole story of That Night. According to Harry, the date had gone well, but a second date was probably not in the books, given that aside from Cho's good looks and need to find out what had happened, there was no real spark between them. Harry had not chosen to share how he felt about that, but Roisin was of the opinion that it was better to know for sure than to be left wondering what could have been.

A few students subscribed to the other papers, rather than just the _Daily Prophet._ Morag MacDougall, Professor McGonagall and Natalie MacDonald, for example, all received the _Highlander's News._ The O'Conner Twins and, as of last week, Seamus Finnegan, read _The Celtic Times,_ and Roisin had found a few copies of _Wales Today _lying around the school, though she didn't know who ordered them. Colin had subscribed to _The Quibbler_ only yesterday, and the news would spread fast, most likely increasing the description.

On the downside, Umbridge was currently bearing down on Luna, a copy of the _Quibbler_ clutched in her fat hand. Luna looked supremely unconcerned, but Roisin was not quite so confident. Spotting a few other Ravenclaw Fourth-Years nearby, she carefully aimed a Frog-in-the-throat Hex at the porridge tureen sitting on the table between them. The hex struck the polished stainless steel, bouncing off to hit Umbridge just as she was about to issue detention or something worse.

The Ravenclaws, marginally more intelligent than Umbridge, instantly turned to see where the hex came from, not yet noticing who had actually been cursed. Roisin's wand was slightly visible, and she was directing a very threatening look at one of the Ravenclaws, and, for once, they hadn't yet done anything to Luna, though according to the House Elf that Roisin had enlisted to keep an eye on Luna's disappearing possessions last year, they had been plotting. One of the other Fourth-Years spoke up in defence of her friend. "You leave her alone!"

Whatever the girl was about to say was cut off by an incoherent shriek of rage as Umbridge heard the shout, but didn't know that it was aimed at Roisin in defence of her friend, not at Umbridge in defence of Luna. Seeing Umbridge turn from Luna and waddle toward the other Ravenclaws, Roisin quickly tucked her wand back up her sleeve and calmly resumed her conversation with Millicent through bites of toast. Blame successfully diverted, Roisin caught Luna's eye, while the other girl returned one of her enigmatic smiles and a tilt of her head.

Picking up her own copy of the _Quibbler, _Roisin easily saw what had so enraged the High Inquisitor.

_HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST_

_THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED _

_AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN_

Selwyn was going to have a difficult time of it, being actively named as being the one to resurrect Voldemort. In a way, it was better than if it had been Peter Pettigrew, who was, after all, largely presumed dead. Several highly placed Ministry workers would also have some quick talking to do, as Madam Bones was one of the few officials that couldn't be bribed, and would do all that she could to prosecute any suspected Death Eaters, especially the ones who had cried Imperio last time.

She and Cedric could look forward to some renewed attention, as they had been named in the battle in the graveyard, and Roisin had stuck around long enough to confirm her part in the fight before making herself scarce.

Spotting the flood of mail headed in Harry's direction, most likely followed by Umbridge as soon as she got someone to remove the hex, and one or two owls headed her way, Roisin decided that now would be a good time to leave.

* * *

The students of Hogwarts hadn't even left the first class of the day before half of the castle was plastered with new, enormous signs.

_BY ORDER OF THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR_

_Any student found in possession of the magazine '__The Quibbler'__ will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Degree number Twenty-Four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

On their way back from Herbology, Roisin nearly crashed into Desdemona, who had frozen at the sight of the signs. Roisin, who had known that something of this sort was coming, merely raised an eyebrow as she read, then calmly resumed her path to Ancient Runes, where they were due to submit the rough draft of their OWL project, which was three Rune spells, what they were meant to do, and a year-long diary of their progress in crafting them. Roisin was going to submit her Translation rune-spell, which still had several kinks that needed to be worked out. "Well, she works fast, doesn't she?"

Desdemona, getting over her shock, nodded. "You've got that right. I wonder if she realizes that she just ensured that everyone in Hogwarts will have read that article before the day is out?"

Roisin had just opened her mouth to answer when Pansy, still playing her part, stalked over and snatched the _Quibbler _out of Roisin's bag. "Give me that." The blonde girl lowered her voice. "I can say I found it lying around and confiscated it, but you need to be more careful, and Umbridge mentioned checking for notice-me-not charms. I'll slip it back to you tonight."

Urg. Bloody Umbridge.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Right, the next chapter is up, and it's a nice long one, so telling me what you think would be nice. Finding ways to follow Canon events while keeping everyone in Fanfictional character is not easy!_

_Also, a friend and I were discussing the 'romance' in the Twilight series. I thought everything except Ben/Angela and Jess/Mike was sick, twisted and/or creepy, but she thought it was a love for the ages. (Yeah, I know, but we've been friends since age two, so I can't just drop her for her bad taste in books) I disagreed, and she challenged me to write a fic to prove my point. If anyone wants to look at Nature's Kick Up The Backside to see if it works as an argument, I'd appreciate it._

_Thanks, Nat _


	73. The Defence Association

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters. Anything you don't recognize is probably mine, unless stated otherwise.  
__Summary: See Previous Chapters._

_A/N: In honour of Australia Day, you're getting this chapter two days early. __Australians all let us rejoice…__  
__Food, Fireworks and Friends, plus the one day I am allowed to sing without everyone I know begging me to shut up. You can deal with reading the first line of my National Anthem._

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO**

Emergency Prefect Meetings were becoming far too commonplace in Slytherin House.

This time, the main theme was: '_How the hell did she find out?'_

Ophelia was an early riser, and had come downstairs that morning to see a new sign covering the entire noticeboard, hiding the notices of Quidditch Practice, used textbooks for sale (class notes included for an extra two sickles), club meetings and study groups, in favour of a new Educational Degree. She had promptly dragged the others out of bed and into a meeting.

It made Roisin wonder if the noise that Pansy complained had woken her up that morning really hadn't been her imagination. The Ravenclaw Common Room wasn't that far above the Slytherin one, and that House was probably screaming about this new command, if they had received the same notice. Pushing a few Second-Years out of the way, Draco read the notice out loud:

"'_BY ORDER OF THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR_

_All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.  
__An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.  
_

_Permission to reform may be sought from the High Inquisitor. (Professor Umbridge)  
__No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge or approval of the High Inquisitor._

_Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Degree Number Twenty-Five._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor.'_

Just how screwed does this make us?"

Roisin frowned. She had taken Desdemona and the First-Years to sign Hermione's list, and brought the secrecy contract with her, so none of them had been the tell-tale. "Well, none of us said anything, so it was almost certainly either one of the more reluctant Study Group members, or one of Umbridge's Hogsmeade Informants. We shouldn't be too affected, since Umbridge is playing favourites with most of you, but we'll have to be careful."

Dimitri sighed, brow furrowed in worry. "No kidding. Come on, let's get to breakfast and see what the other Houses are saying about this. A notice like this wouldn't be exclusive to our House, after all."

* * *

The new Educational Degree clearly had been put up in all four Common Rooms, judging by the intensity of conversation in the Great Hall, and the number of students scurrying between tables to discuss it with friends and fellow organisation/society/team/group/club members. Roisin darted over to the Gryffindor table long enough to swear her innocence and confirm that the study group was still on anyway, before re-joining the Slytherins seconds before Umbridge entered, looking particularly pleased with herself.

She barely avoided being run over by a frantic Angelina Johnson, and sat down just in time to hear Draco and Montague discussing if '_no teams, etc.'_ included the Slytherin Quidditch team, how quickly they could get Umbridge to re-instate them if it _was_ the case, and if asking her to delay permission for the other House Quidditch teams would be pushing too far.

Roisin muttered a number of Gaelic swearwords under her breath as she listened, feeling a headache coming on. They were worried about _Quidditch_? She needed to find the time to visit Madam Pomfrey and beg her for a Calming Potion or two.

* * *

Roisin had her excuse to visit Madam Pomfrey sooner than expected, as a fight broke out between Roisin's First-Years, who had overheard Draco talking about the Slytherin team being reformed first, and a gaggle of Second-Years from the other Houses. Roisin and Padma, hearing the commotion, had broken it up before any teachers came along, but Roisin was still forced to miss History of Magic as she escorted them all to the Hospital Wing, and then ran a message to the relevant Professors to explain why they were absent.

Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was sympathetic enough to give her a Calming Potion, but the sight that greeted her when she caught up to the rest of her class outside the Potions Classroom was enough to make her wish that she had asked Madam Pomfrey for a few more Potions for the road.

Draco was waving an official-looking parchment around, speaking so loudly that there was no possible way for it to be accidental. "Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch Team permission to continue practicing straightaway. I went to her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry… It'll be interesting to see if Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"

If Gryffindor were actively banned from playing, they would have justifiable cause to cry discrimination. Umbridge would hold out as long as possible, but she would have to give in at some point. Roisin sighed, raising her voice to match her Housemate's. "Draco, I just got back from escorting students to the Hospital Wing because they were bragging about that, and I refuse to have to take you as well. Besides, your father is in and out of the Ministry so much because Fudge and his minions need someone to tell them how to walk and breathe at the same time, and he was one of the few who couldn't claim to have something better to do with his time!"

That could be taken several ways, and Draco shot her an annoyed look, trying to drown out the giggles by speaking even louder. "I mean, if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance… from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years… and as for Potter… my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's… apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic."

Roisin rolled her eyes in exasperation, and was about to make a snarky comment about both Malfoys having their brains addled if they thought that Dumbledore wouldn't step in for his favourites, or that Ministry gossip should be taken with any degree of face value, when she was knocked flat on her backside.

Desdemona helped her back up just in time to see Harry and Ron grab Neville, who was trying to get at Draco, with every appearance of planning to put him in traction. Draco looked startled, and quickly his behind Greg and Vince as a flicker of understanding dawned on his face.

Roisin was about to demand an explanation from _someone_ when the door opened and Professor Snape appeared, taking points from Gryffindor when he spotted Ron and Harry attempting to wrestle Neville back. Roisin decided that it would be easier to ask Draco in class, and hurried inside as everyone started whispering. A pointed look had him joining her at a table, and the murmuring stopped when Professor Snape loudly banged the door. He didn't look particularly happy. "You will notice that we have a guest with us today."

'_Guest'_ was a relative term, as he certainly wouldn't have invited Umbridge to invade his classroom, but '_Unwanted Intruder'_ would not have been the best choice of words.

The next table over, Pansy, Desdemona and Millicent were smirking. Theo somehow managed to be a bit more restrained. "Hey, who wants to bet that this will even make up for missing McGonagall's inspection?"

Pansy elbowed Desdemona. "Lower your voice! And no, that's a Sucker Bet. McGonagall is too formal to stoop to Professor Snape's level of sarcasm."

Millicent hushed them both as Professor Snape continued talking. "We are continuing our Strengthening Solutions today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend. Instructions are on the board. Carry on."  
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Roisin hissed at Draco. "Precisely what was it about your comments that made one of the least aggressive Gryffindors in the school try to attack you? Neville Longbottom is more placid than most Hufflepuffs, and he was going for your throat!"

Umbridge was lurking near Professor Snape, not far away from where Roisin and Draco were working, but far enough away that she wouldn't hear them if they kept their voices down. Draco had known Roisin long enough to know that silence wasn't an option. He did look slightly sheepish. "I hadn't actually thought about what it would mean to Longbottom until I had already said it, but Bellatrix LeStrange was caught and convicted for attacking the Longbottom family shortly after the Dark Lord's fall, and torturing the parents into insanity. I was running out of insults for Potter, and thought I'd fall back on the classic 'Disturbed and Dangerous'. I swear I didn't know Longbottom was listening; joking about that is too low even for me."

He did look genuinely sorry about it, and did have an unfortunate habit of speaking without thinking, and usually knew when he was about to go too far, but still. Roisin sighed. "You know I'm going to have to publicly hex you as soon as we're away from any teachers. I won't do anything bad enough to send you to Madam Pomfrey, but it will be very obvious that I disapprove of what you say, and not everyone will believe that you didn't say that deliberately."

Draco winced. "Yeah, I know. You'd better make it inventive. Oh, look out, they're coming this way."

'They' was Professor Snape, who was checking the students' work while Umbridge put away her vile little clipboard and waddled over.

Roisin's hand snapped out, grabbing Vince's wrist as he picked up the wrong container. "Not pomegranate juice! Are you trying to blow us all sky high?"

Greg looked very pleased with himself. "We need Salamander Blood now, right, Roisin?"

Good, the tutoring had paid off. Roisin smiled. "Very good. Now hush, I want to hear this."

Professor Snape had stopped at Dean Thomas's cauldron, where he was working with Seamus, Blaise and Lavender Brown. Blaise and Seamus were glaring at each other, which Professor Snape looked ready to snap about when Umbridge started talking. "Well, the class seems very advanced for their level."

The High Inquisitor spoke to Professor Snape's back, after several minutes of her waiting to be acknowledged and him persistently ignoring her presence, much to several people's delight. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion such as the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

Professor Snape slowly straightened and turned to look at her. The class watched eagerly. One of the first things any Potions student learned was to _never_ question the Potions Master. If it had been anyone else making that remark, trying to tell him what he should or shouldn't be teaching, the questioner would have found themselves turned into potion ingredients.

Sadly, it was not to be, and Umbridge continued the questioning. "Now… how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"

Professor Snape's expression was unfathomable, but his voice suggested that he was gritting his teeth. A menacing hiss echoed through the classroom, but it was only someone's potion. "Fourteen years."

"You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge was hitting pretty much every 'No-No' that Professor Snape had.

The Potions Master's voice was now the lethal quiet seen in movies, the brief seconds of silence right before everything goes to hell in a handbasket. "Yes."

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Oh, dear. A few of the more intelligent students appeared to be looking for a quick escape route, in case Umbridge kept pushing. Professor Snape's lip curled. "Obviously."

Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard, somehow oblivious to the danger she was very clearly in. "And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

Ron Weasley was sitting nearby, smirking a bit too widely. How acceptable would it be for Roisin to sacrifice him for the greater good of the class, shoving him in Professor Snape's path while the rest of them made a hasty exit? They were both Prefects, so in theory he should be able to take care of himself. In practice, she didn't care if he could take care of himself or not, as long as she wasn't the one stuck on the receiving end of Professor Snape's very obvious anger. "Yes."

How had Umbridge managed to survive this long? "Do you have any idea why Professor Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?"

Because competent Potions Masters were hard to come by, and were almost always already employed, and therefore unable to work as a Professor, maybe? It was possibly the first time Roisin had ever really, _really_ wanted the lesson to end. "I suggest you ask him."

"Oh, I will." Umbridge's smile was sickly-sweet as she waddled over to question Pansy, who hastily wiped the smirk off her face. The rest of the class quickly avoided Professor Snape's gaze, which unfortunately meant that he zeroed in on Harry as the target of his ire.

Then again, as Harry's cauldron was currently giving off a smell of burnt rubber and had turned a violent shade of orange somewhere along the line, it wasn't like he didn't have an excuse, even if Vanishing the potion was going overboard.

Again, Roisin kept her voice low as they left the classroom. "In case I do get caught or reported, ask Umbridge if you can oversee the detention, so you can enlighten me on how to show respect to one's betters or some such snobby nonsense. You can respect that I'm better than you at Astronomy while I help you with the latest essay."

Keeping an eye on the surrounding students, Draco nodded. "Here come the Gryffindors. Can you please just hex me before Longbottom gets close enough to do it himself?"

Neville emerged just as Roisin drew her wand, but contented himself with laughing when Roisin quietly cast the spell to reveal his Animagus form, turning him mostly into a ferret. Almost everyone witnessing the scene burst out in near-hysterical amusement, and even Vince was smiling as he carted the annoyed youth off to visit Madam Pomfrey.

Hearing louder footsteps approach, Roisin quickly left, amongst reassurances that no one would be ratting her out for what had happened, and headed to class.

* * *

Arithmancy went quietly enough, though according to what Desdemona whispered to her friends over lunch, Divination had been subjected to a rare bout of excitement, well past the usual fantastic predictions of Harry's death.

Professor Trelawney had been in a more dramatic than usual mood, slamming textbooks down on tables or practically throwing them at the students as she passed them out. _Unfogging the Future_ had nearly fogged up Seamus Finnegan's brain when it barely missed his head, hard enough to have caused a concussion if he hadn't ducked in time.

Hushed questioning from Parvati and Lavender revealed that the surprisingly foul mood was the result of Professor Trelawney (not-so-surprisingly) having been placed on Probation. Roisin thought it was very fitting, as Trelawney was apparently the only one who hadn't seen that coming, which didn't say much for her abilities as a Seer.

* * *

Professor Snape was tutoring the Seventh-Years again, and his mood had not improved from Umbridge's visit that morning, which was not helped by the many re-tellings that had taken place during lunch, until most of the school knew about it. As a result, Second- to Sixth-Year were crammed in the library until Madam Pierce kicked them out at curfew, and Roisin had taken her First-Years to Gryffindor Tower.

When she got through the portrait hole, she wasn't sure that it had been such a good idea after all. Harry was in a particularly foul mood due to the combination of the news that Umbridge had refused permission to reform the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and an extra essay from Professor Snape, and it seemed that the Weasley Twins had been working on a prank item, which they had apparently titled 'Skiving Snack-boxes' and were demonstrating.

A twin would eat one half of a piece of candy and start vomiting spectacularly, then eat the other half and be perfectly fine again. It was very distracting, and more than a little nauseating, but Roisin couldn't help feeling impressed at the kind of spell-work it must have taken.

David, Richard and Jacob had skipped 'Impressed' and gone straight to 'Awestruck and Worshipful' as they exchanged thoughtful looks with each other. Not needing to be told what they were thinking, Roisin sighed. "If you plan on asking questions or pre-ordering something, please wait until breakfast tomorrow. I will be sleeping in after Patrol, and therefore not obligated to step in and forbid it."

Hermione, who had spent the time expressing her feelings through loud, disapproving sniffs, looked scandalized. "You can't tell me that you're condoning that rubbish of theirs!"

Roisin gave her a flat look. "At the moment, they aren't doing anything that I have grounds to interfere in. I can't stop the Twins, or anyone foolish enough to buy their products, so the best thing I can do is make sure that I officially know nothing about it."

Harry was wise enough not to get in the middle of the brewing argument. "You know, I can't understand why Fred and George only got three OWLs each. They really know their stuff."

Hermione looked even less pleased than before. "Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's of no real use to anyone!"

Roisin lifted an eyebrow, wondering why Hermione was being quite so dismissive. "They've managed to create some frankly astonishing and very popular inventions that must have taken a lot of complex spell-work. The canary creams last year took an amazing mix of Transfiguration and Potions, especially with the time-trigger, and those fireworks someone mentioned they were working on would have taken all kinds of Charm work. My guess is that they were so busy working on those inventions that they didn't have the time to study the class material."

Hermione looked ready to explode at the implication that inventing pranks was more important than OWLs, but Harry cut in. "Why does powdered Griffin Claw need to be included in the Strengthening Solution, and why exactly is it dangerous if you use too much, aside from the obvious?"

Roisin pulled out her own Potions homework as Lucinda and Sienna wandered over to where Parvati and Lavender were sitting. "Griffins are part lion and part eagle, both representing strength and power, such as the lion in most European Heraldry and the Eagle standard of the Roman Legions. The claw is the most dangerous part, so too much of it will induce aggression along with the strength, which can end badly."

They worked in silence for a while, until the clock chimed. Roisin looked up. "Drat, I need to get the kids back before curfew." She gathered up the First-Years from assorted places around the Common Room. "I know you all have homework to finish, and then to bed. You have Potions first thing tomorrow and if memory serves, you're due to start something more complex."

Richard shared more than a name with his cheeky comic counterpart. "Yes, mummy. Will you read a story and tuck us in later?"

Argh, boys! Still, at least with him Roisin knew it was a joke. "I'll certainly be checking on you when I get back, and I expect all of you to be in bed and asleep before then, or I am not above sleeping spells."

Sienna giggled, and Roisin thought she heard a muffled laugh from a knot of the other students, but ignored it as she led them all back to the dungeons.

* * *

Roisin's claim of sleeping in the next morning was not unfounded. Professor Umbridge was due to take the Midnight Shift after Roisin, but hadn't seen fit to show up until after one in the morning. As a result, it was nearly two a.m. before Roisin finally made it to her bed, and only woke up from Winky poking her half an hour before classes were due to start.

To make matters worse, Umbridge had ignored her role in Roisin's late night when she caught her dozing in class, subtracting points for not paying attention. Roisin had considered pointing out that not getting to bed until the unholy hours of the morning would do that to a person, but ultimately decided against it. Luckily, her Housemates caught on, with Draco keeping an eye on her and distracting Umbridge long enough for Millicent to poke Roisin back awake the next four times it happened before the bell.

Thankfully, Charms went much better, as did Ancient Runes, Pansy offered to quietly take over Charms Tutoring that night, and Roisin managed to get enough of her homework done to retire to bed early, quickly falling asleep, despite the storm raging outside.

The weather had not improved as they squelched to Herbology the next morning, huddled under an umbrella that had been enlarged to the size of a small pavilion. Luckily, Care of Magical Creatures had been moved to a free indoor classroom for the day, rather than on the storm-ravaged paddocks near Hagrid's hut, and Seamus approached her during lunch to pass on that the first Defence Club meeting would be that night at eight O'Clock, and to meet outside the Gryffindor Common Room.

Hiding a smirk when Blaise sent the Irish boy a glare, Roisin passed the news to Desdemona and the First-Years, who would be coming with her, and to Draco and the other Prefects, who would cover for them if anyone tried to ask where they were.

* * *

At seven-thirty that night, Roisin and Desdemona put disillusionment charms on everyone, and the small group left the Slytherin Common Room, preceded by Ophelia, who was headed to the library as an excuse to let them out without being noticed. The hidden door opening and shutting by itself would have drawn attention that they didn't want.

The First-Years were becoming very familiar with the route to Gryffindor Tower, but it was still slow going, as they had to avoid running into people or potentially being followed by anyone doing their own sneaking and intelligent enough to check for disillusionment charms or other methods of concealment.

Poking Seamus in the back and whispering got his attention, and they walked up to a tapestry on the seventh floor, and a door that Roisin was almost positive hadn't been there when she had gone to the Owlery two days ago.

She was also certain that there hadn't been a duelling hall in the castle, or a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves outside of the library or the Ravenclaw Common Room. There were several cushions scattered over the floor, and a few students were already there. Hermione was sitting on a cushion, absorbed in a book, and Roisin pulled out another book on the use of Arithmancy in Wards, and a copy of '_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection'_, handing it to the First-Years.

Harry started to explain things to students as they trickled into the room in small groups of two and three, but had to keep starting over when more arrived, until he just decided to wait until everyone had arrived.

Starting with an explanation was a good idea, but would have gone a lot smoother if Hermione would stop interrupting. Harry had to be nervous enough, teaching an illegal club to fight against a Dark Lord and his minions, and having her constantly cut in could not have helped. If Hermione was so desperate for things to be done her way, she should have sat down with Harry and worked out an agenda beforehand.

"Well, I was thinking that Harry could be our leader. He's the one who knows what it's like, after all."

In Roisin's opinion, that had already been a given, but they voted anyway, just to formalize the decision. Zacharias had seemed a bit reluctant, but raised his hand anyway, making it unanimous. Everyone looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to start. "Er – right, thanks. And – _what_, Hermione?"

Hermione had her hand up, looking eerily like she did whenever a teacher asked a question in class. "I also thing we ought to have a name. It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

Oh, so they _weren't_ already teamed up and united in their hatred/distain of Umbridge and the desire to actually learn Defence Against the Dark Arts? People started throwing out suggestions, most of which were greeted by laughter.

"Yeah, We Learned Defence, And You Can't Do Anything About It!"

"Isn't that a bit long? How about the 'Planning to Pass Our Owls Club?"

"The Anarchist's Association?" Roisin shot Desdemona a flat look as Terry rolled his eyes.

"Please tell me that was a joke. 'Defence in Defiance of Dumbridge'?"

"Now who's joking? Education Go-Getters?"

"E.G.G.? Who scrambled your brains? Fudge Frighteners?"

"Don't make me respond to that. Do we sound like a Quidditch Team?"

Speaking of Quidditch… "Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" was Angelina Johnson's suggestion.

Were she and Fred still dating? It would suggest which twin immediately followed up. "Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?"

Hermione frowned at them. "I was thinking more of a name that _didn't_ tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside of meetings."

"The Defence Association?" asked Cho. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about."

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny, "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it."

And therefore likely to result in even more trouble in the off-chance that the Group was discovered. Either Roisin had been too good of an example for her First-Years, or the Asian cousins were closer than she had thought, as Jia Li's retort was decidedly sassy. "Oh, yes. Then, if anyone does find out, the Ministry goes berserk and we instantly lose perhaps our only real defence against Umbridge. I vote we stick with Cho's idea."

Some of the more anti-Slytherin members and a few of Ginny's friends backed the redhead up, but most agreed with Cho and Jia Li. Roisin decided to keep an eye out for any 'accidents' over the next few days. Being both the youngest child and the first girl in several generations apparently led to pampering and a sense of entitlement, so Ginny tended to react badly when she was shot down or denied.

It had been the same with one of Roisin's Muggle neighbours. Her parents had wanted a girl, so after having three boys while trying, their only daughter was more than a bit spoiled. Roisin didn't know if it was deliberate or not, but Carly definitely was favoured over her siblings, and had the attitude that she deserved the best because she was the youngest and only girl.

Hermione took her turn herding off trouble. "All in favour of the DA?" she knelt up on her cushion to count hands. "That's a majority – motion passed."

"Right," said Harry, when Hermione had pinned the list of signatures to the wall and sat down again, "shall we get to practicing, then? I was thinking the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic, but I've found it really useful – "

Well, the disarming charm wasn't the worst place to start, and it had been the only thing to go right at the first and only meeting of the Duelling Club Lockhart had started in Second-Year, but it was a bit of a disappointment. She wasn't the only one to think so, as Zacharias looked ready to start trouble, and the atmosphere was tense enough. "Oh, _please_. I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," Harry's voice was quiet, but held a strong hint of steel. "It saved my life in June."

There was a very uncomfortable silence. Trying to think of a good way to smooth things over before it turned violent, Roisin frowned and lifted her hand. "As much as I hate to say it, Smith does have a point. If there is even a small chance that we'll face Voldemort, variety would be a very good thing. I mean, Harry's a good choice, but wouldn't it be better if everyone who had something to teach took a turn? Most of us know different spells or different styles of fighting, and we do have a couple of Sixth- and Seventh-Years, who probably know some more advanced things and need to be practicing more advanced things in order to pass their NEWTs."

Hermione, for all of her brain and other virtues, was not one to sit idle when one of her ideas was being questioned. "So you want to be in charge, then?"

Roisin tried very hard not to roll her eyes. "I have more than enough to do being a Prefect, thank you very much. I meant, Harry is a good choice for leader, but we should take turns teaching. I mean, Harry has an aggressive fighting style, and power to back it up, while you rely on your greater knowledge of spells. I use ridiculously overpowered spells that are common, but don't have any real counter, and there has to be someone here who forgoes magic and starts by throwing a punch."

Given that the majority of students present were Gryffindors, most likely more than one. Hermione was about to respond with the zeal of one who knows that they are wrong, but have no intention of admitting it, when Lisbeth raised a hand. "It's harder for people to dodge or chase you if they're limping. Before I got my wand, my first move was to kick my opponent in the shins."

Jacob followed her up. "I think that's a good idea. I'm only starting, and I've never used it in a real fight, but most pureblood boys know how to handle a blade of some kind."

That was a holdover from times when wearing and knowing how to handle a blade was a mark of status, as commoners were then not allowed to carry weapons in public. While most Wizards favoured wands nowadays, several of the older families still taught their children. The Patil twins exchanged a glance, before Padma acted as spokeswoman. "I don't know how much it'll help, but Parvati and I know some yoga exercises that will help with flexibility and building up strength."

Both Seamus' were looking a bit too pleased. The Fifth-Year grinned broadly. "No formal training, but I know how to throw a lot more than a punch."

Harry looked pleased, probably less than taken with Hermione's idea of him being the sole leader, which she had most likely neglected to mention to him beforehand. He wasn't bad at teaching, when needed, but the added stress of coming up with lessons on top of everything else was not something he needed. "Variety sounds like a good idea. Everyone think of something, even just a spell you think it would be useful to learn, and we'll work out a schedule."

He dragged things back on track. "We'll still start with the Disarming Charm, to see where everyone is at, and work out taking turns in being the instructor next meeting."

Harry started setting everyone into pairs, partnering with Neville for a while before walking around to check on the others. Partnered up with Desdemona, Roisin quickly decided that the Disarming Charm had been a good idea after all. With all the training over the Summer, she and Erin were fairly consistent, unless their opponent was smart enough to dodge. Mary and Seamus, like Fred and George, were practically reading each other's minds, and finding it hard to land a hit. Of the rest, some people were disarming their opponents, but others were merely causing them to jump back a few paces.

Ginny was doing well against her boyfriend, who was either abysmal (unlikely, for a Fifth-Year Ravenclaw) or simply reluctant to jinx her back. Ernie was clearly showing off for _someone_, if all the un-necessary wand flourishing was anything to go by. Luna was a bit patchy, usually sending Justin's wand flyting out of his hand, but sometimes just causing his hair to stand on end.

The Creevy brothers were enthusiastic, but also very erratic. The fifth time Roisin was forced to duck one of the many books that had flown off a shelf and narrowly missed someone's head, she spun on them angrily. "I swear, if either of you send one more book at me, I will tear your ears off and make you _eat_ them!"

The Creevy's aim quickly improved, and the meeting ended at ten past nine, with everyone very pleased with themselves and very enthusiastic to do it again. Harry looked around. "Well, that was pretty good, but we've over-run on time. Same time, same place next week?"

Most people wanted it sooner, though Angelina pointed out that Quidditch would be starting soon. "Let's say next Wednesday night, then. We can decide on additional meetings then. Come on, we'd better get going."

Roisin and Desdemona handed out Disillusionment Charms again, and slowly headed back down to the Dungeons. Directing the First-Years to bed and sneaking into their own Dorm, Roisin was asleep almost instantly.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Again, I am not trying to Ginny-Bash, but how did __no-one__ see the obvious flaw in naming the club 'Dumbledore's Army'? All it would take is one slip-up, whether Marietta blabbing or even someone forgetting to abbreviate it in public, and Dumbledore is gone, also removing the only barrier between Umbridge and total power. Defence Association can at least be excused as an accidental mix up with the 'Dark Force Defence League', of which Lockhart was a member._

_Expelliarmus__ was a good spell to start with, but unless you have a prophecy and the luck of Fortuna behind you, you're going to need a lot more than the fourth-year spells they practiced behind you. Plus, there were several Sixth- and Seventh-Year students, who would know more advanced spells. Hence, my idea of people taking turns coming up with things to learn/teach._

_You are all free to disagree, and I would love to hear your take on it, even if it's just to call me an idiot with no grasp of literature._

_Thanks, Nat _


	74. Meetings, Matches and Mayhem

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Haven't we gone over this before?_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE**

Hermione was brilliant.

Whenever Roisin was doing better than her in the practical portion of Ancient Runes or was annoyed enough to overlook this fact, Hermione always managed to come up with something to remind her.

The DA meetings were erratic, having to be scheduled around the practices of three Quidditch Teams, Prefect Meetings and various other commitments, also playing merry hell on Roisin's already packed and carefully organized schedule, but perhaps that was a good thing. If nothing else, it made them unpredictable to anyone who might be getting suspicious.

On the downside, lack of a regular time caused a number of communication issues, given that several of them were being watched by Umbridge, and members of different Houses running across the Great Hall to talk to each other tended to draw attention, unless there happened to be something notable enough to make the entire school run around gossiping to each other. Hermione had taken precisely two weeks to not only come up with an idea to solve the problem, but also create and implement a practical solution.

After six meetings, Neville had successfully disarmed Hermione; Colin had mastered the Impediment Charm after only three lessons, and Parvati had had produced a Reductor Curse strong enough to reduce the table holding the sneakoscopes to matchsticks. Seeing the way Parvati's eyes flickered toward Harry just before she cast, and her visible pleasure when he congratulated her, Roisin giggled to herself.

The meeting after that, Hermione had shown up carrying a basket filled with fake Galleons, one for every member. "You see the numerals around the edge of the coins? On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the Goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll change to mimic his."

Hermione had… wha'… Protean… she…

A blank silence greeted this announcement. Several of the younger years may have not had the first clue what she was talking about, but the older students were just in shock. Seeing them stare at her, Hermione looked unsure. "Well – I thought it was a good idea. I mean, even if Umbridge asks us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing suspicious about carrying around a Galleon, is there? But… well, if you don't want to use them…"

Roisin had never thought of Hermione as any kind of insecure, but as the Gryffindor Brainiac looked around uncertainly, Roisin realized that she may have misjudged her. She broke out of her trance in an attempt to be reassuring. "It is a good idea, though I would recommend making a small but distinctive mark and keeping it in your money-bag or some other safe place where you can just check it frequently. I wouldn't put it past Umbridge to pretend suspicion and confiscate anything you're carrying, anyway."

That was a tactful way of saying that any of the Weasley's carrying around Galleons _would_ be cause for suspicion, and few people had reason to carry around money outside of Hogsmeade Weekends or their Common Room, wasn't it? None of them were glaring at her for saying it, at least.

Either way, her words snapped the others back to reality. Terry Boot was the first to pull himself back together. "You can do a Protean Charm?"

Actually, perfecting the Charm was probably why it had taken Hermione two weeks, rather than a couple of days, but neither Roisin nor Hermione was likely to actually say that. Hermione looked a bit more confident. "Yes."

Terry looked ready to go back into shock. "But that's… that's NEWT standard, that is!"

Hermione tried to look modest, not quite as successful as she probably hoped. "Oh. Oh… well… yes, I suppose it is."

Anthony looked at her in something approaching awe and wonder. "How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" He actually sounded indignant about the fact. "With brains like yours?"

Hermione looked even more pleased that the statement had come from him. "Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw, but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So, does this mean that we're using the Galleons?"

Roisin decided to shake things up, rising to collect her fake Galleon. "With this kind of cunning and consistent success rate, I'm impressed that you managed to talk it out of putting you in Slytherin. Then again, the Sorting Hat nearly sent me into Hufflepuff, but said that my loyalty was too selective for me to really fit in. Gryffindor wasn't a consideration because I refuse to charge blindly into a fight. It said I was focused on knowledge for how it could benefit me, rather than for knowledge's own sake."

More than a few from both of those Houses spluttered in either indignation or surprise, and they quickly resumed the practical part of the meeting.

The idea to have everyone take turns at instructing had paid off.

The Patil twins had been the first to demonstrate, walking everyone through some basic yoga exercises. It went fairly well, though some of the more flexible poses made several of the boys cringe. Seamus Finnegan had spent a week teaching the DA some tricks to use in a fight. Most wizards expected their opponents to stand around helplessly once they were disarmed, not dart in close and punch them in the face.

The Fifth-Year Ravenclaw boys introduced the Shield and the Stunning spells, while those who knew how to handle a blade banded together to teach a session. They weren't "Letting you lot near a proper dagger until I'm sure you won't accidentally gut yourself showing off", but the Room of Requirement provided plenty of wooden practice daggers to use.

Today, it was Roisin and Desdemona's turn, and they had settled on the benefits of overpowered spells. Understandably, more than one person expressed disbelief. This time, it was David Sutton. "But it's Death Eaters! We haven't even left school, how are we supposed to fight them?"

Roisin shrugged, actually relieved that the First-Years weren't taking everything she said as gospel. "You can start by not going into a panic whenever they are mentioned. Sorcha is – was – only a few years older than me, and she took down three of them before one of the other two got her with a Killing Curse, and she was only using overpowered Household Spells."

Marietta Edgecombe made a derisive sound. "No wonder she didn't make it. Killing Curses against Household Charms? I think that you're making things up."

Fighting back the urge to demonstrate _on_ Marietta, Roisin contented herself with a cold look and motioned to some of the remaining dummies. "Perhaps you would like a demonstration, then. If you would all move to the side of the room?"

Desdemona, along with Mary, Seamus and a few of the other Fifth-Years in attendance, had heard that quietly dangerous tone before, and bolted out of the way. The rest followed a bit more slowly, and Roisin took a deep breath. A look and a thought made the dummies a bit more lifelike, and Roisin took her place, making sure everyone could see her.

Focusing on using far more power than was needed, Roisin cast a scouring charm, a warming charm, _Incendio_, and a spell used for cleaning freshly killed animals. One dummy was scoured down to its skeleton, a second and third were burned to death, and the last simply collapsed as a wooden heart, liver, lungs and entrails appeared in a neat line in front of her.

Roisin turned around to face the rest of the DA, raising an eyebrow. The reactions varied between staring in fascinated horror, looking green but taking notes, and looking ready to faint or throw up. Valiantly holding back a satisfied smirk, Roisin accidentally dropped into the lecturing mode that she used when tutoring. "I trust that I've made my point? It doesn't matter _what_ spell you use, just _how_ you use it. In a fight, even a cheering charm can be deadly. Can anyone tell me why?"

Ravenclaw was not doing too well in the brains department today, as Jacob, Rose from Hufflepuff and Hermione all raised their hands. Harry didn't bother, and just spoke. "In my Third-Year Charms exam, I overdid my cheering charm, and Ron had to spend two hours in a quiet room before he was calm enough to do it himself. If you hit someone hard enough, they'd be too busy laughing to fight or defend themselves, and might even distract some of the other fighters."

From outside, a bell rang, signaling five minutes to curfew and Roisin's patrol, and therefore time for the meeting to break up. Harry briefly took control again. "OK, everyone keep an eye on your galleons, and I'll let you know when the next meeting in. Until then, everyone try to think of some unconventional tactics, and we'll go over the ideas next time."

* * *

For once, Halloween passed without incident, and October extinguished itself with a massive storm, before giving way to iron-cold and windy November, which also heralded the start of the Quidditch Season.

The DA was temporarily put on hold, as all of the teams were practicing for the first match virtually every hour of the day. Pansy had been quietly writing an outline and sources for Greg, Vince and Draco's essays, so all he had to do was write them up, which was probably the only reason they was keeping up, as Professor Snape was booking the pitch whenever possible.

Angelina had gone over Umbridge's head by talking to Professor McGonagall, who brought it to Dumbledore, and had let the Gryffindors off without Homework for the week leading up to the match. Professor Snape was not much better, turning a blind eye to the Quidditch players hexing each other in the library or corridors.

Roisin's 'remote vision' rune-spell from the Third Triwizard Task was keeping an eye on Gryffindor Practices whenever the Slytherin Team were not on the pitch, which allowed them to see that Ron was improving as Keeper, though he was still not up to Oliver Wood's standard. His problem was that he tended to lose confidence after he made a mistake, and the other teams were planning on taking advantage of that.

Most of the Gryffindor Team had years of ignoring the relentless taunts, jeers and/or threats during the weeks leading up to the match, but Ron hadn't, and it was clearly getting to them. Umbridge was doing nothing to discourage this, probably hoping to get to Harry through his friends, and since it had been a few weeks since the Slytherins had done anything overt to the Gryffindors, those who were pretending to support her had taken the opportunity, seen clustered in small groups over sheets of parchment, clearly up to something.

She had asked if it was something that she needed to quietly warn anyone about, and had been waved away and told not to get excited. Blaise was still in a foul mood, and had laughed. "Excited? I know kinds of rocks that are more excitable than Roisin is!"

If that was his way of called her a stone-cold bitch in front of impressionable First-Years, Roisin would have been offended, had the comment not been completely misinterpreted by one of said First-Years. "What kind of rock?"

Looking up from the piece of paper he had been scribbling on, Draco smirked. "Volcanic Magma, which is a very good comparison on the rare occasion that you do manage to make her angry. You should know that by now, Blaise, so please shut up and get back on The Plan."

Deciding that it would be no use sticking around, Roisin took the First-Years away to the library for Charms tutoring.

* * *

As a rule, Roisin preferred to stay away from Quidditch Matches, especially ones between Gryffindor and Slytherin. While largely indifferent to the sport itself, Slytherin/Gryffindor matches were vicious, and almost never passed without an incident of some kind, on the field or off.

And, she had missed breakfast, because David, Jacob and Jia Li had wanted someone to turn their hair green and silver for the match, forcing her to grab Parvati and Lavender before _they_ got to breakfast, mentally complaining about fanatics in the making. Next time, Draco got to deal with it, since he was on the team in the first place.

Worst of all, she was stuck escorting the First-Years for the match, with the Head Girl's explicit instructions that she keep them safe from any fights. Roisin thought this was a bit rich, and wondered why she hadn't bothered to tell that to Draco, as her counterpart was likely to be one of the ones _instigating_ said fights. Also, the 'Umbridge Supposedly-Supporting' half of the House had been whispering over something that they had been very careful not to let any of those on Roisin's side see, which suggested that someone, most likely Draco, was going to do something foolish and mean-spirited that would probably get him beaten up as soon as the other Houses could distract Professors Snape and Umbridge. All things considered, it was probably a good idea for Roisin to be there to make sure no one ended up with an extended stay with Madam Pomfrey.

Perhaps the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs wouldn't mind a few extra students in their stands...

* * *

The Ravenclaw Fourth-Years didn't want Roisin anywhere near them, which was certainly understandable, but Cho, Padma and Michael didn't mind the company of fellow DA members. Roisin didn't know where or when Luna had managed to find or make a hat shaped like a lion's head (actually, come to think of it, the hat looked a lot like Mufasa's headdress from the '_Lion King Broadway Musical'_, which Fionna had taken her to as a late birthday present that Summer, as a break from Grimmauld Place), but watching people jump every time it roared loudly was very good pre-match entertainment.

The two teams marched onto the pitch. Greg and Vince had replaced Bode and Derrick, who had left last year, as Slytherin Beaters, and Ron was looking decidedly green as he walked onto the pitch as Gryffindor's new Keeper. After the token attempt by each captain to break the other's fingers, the players took off, and Lee Jordan's voice rang through the stands. "And it's Johnson – Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me – "

If Lee thought that telling a girl that she was good or looked fine on a broomstick was enough to convince her to date him (rather than slap him for the implied innudeo), then it was no wonder Angelina had turned him down. But, Angelina had dated one of Lee's best friends for a while, so perhaps it was just an inside joke between friends. Perhaps Professor McGonagall agreed, or perhaps she just wanted Jordan to get back on topic, because her admonishment was also clear, even without the use of a megaphone.

Lee seemed unaffected, but stopped the off-subject comments. "– just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest – and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's – ouch – been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague headed up the pitch and – nice Bludger work there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away – "

Lucinda looked nearly as bored as Roisin felt. "Is Quidditch Match Attendance still always mandatory if you aren't on the team?"

Roisin shook her head. "Not unless your House has made the Finals, though they tend to prefer that you don't make an issue of not wanting to go, and First-Years have to attend the opening match so there is a chance for indoctrination to kick in. The rest of the time, you just have to pretend to care and enjoy the quiet of the Common Room."

Apparently, one or two Ravenclaws shared this viewpoint, or at least thought it was funny, as Padma smiled and a knot of First-Years two rows in front of them giggled loudly. Cho and Michael looked scandalized, and Roisin quickly turned her attention back to the game before she could burst out laughing at their faces.

"– dodges Warrington, and the crowds are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Wait, singing? Who sang at Quidditch Matches, and since when? Roisin had the bad feeling that she was about to discover what the recent plotting had been about as Lee and most of the crowd paused to listen.

As dreaded, the singing, in a fairly catchy tune, was coming from the Slytherin stands. Roisin closed her eyes and made a note to curse whoever was a Wimbledon Wasps fan, as this was exactly like the buzzing noises generally made to distract 'enemy' players during a Wasps' match.

"_Weasley cannot save a thing,  
__He cannot block a single ring,  
__That's why Slytherins all sing,  
__Weasley is our King._

_Weasley was born in a bin,  
__He always lets the Quaffle in,  
__Weasley will make sure we win,  
__Weasley is our King."_

Lee Jordan shouted his commentary even louder, clearly trying to drown them out, and Roisin fought the urge to pound her head against something solid, like the head of whoever thought this up. She didn't need to look to know that the Ravenclaws were all staring at her. "You know, I just realized why Amanda insisted I come and make sure none of the First-Years got caught in a fight. I can't believe they've sunk to name-calling as a distraction."

An older Ravenclaw gave up pretending not to eavesdrop. "You didn't know about this? I find that hard to believe."

Roisin glared at him. "In case you somehow didn't notice, I'm not getting along with most of my House right now. Also, I can assure you that if I had been involved, the lyrics would have been a lot better than '_born in a bin'._ Maybe '_Slytherins all chant/catch the Quaffle, Weasley can't_' or something. Calling him our 'King' is just demeaning to everyone."

This claim to ignorance mollified them somewhat, though admitting that she would simply have tried to make the lyrics better probably hadn't helped her cause, and Roisin went back to planning the best and fastest escape route, as Warrington was speeding up the pitch, and the singing grew louder as he grew closer to the goalposts.

"_Weasley is our King,  
__Weasley is our King,  
__He always lets the Quaffle in,  
__Weasley is our King!"_

Had the non-harassment suggestions Roisin had made at the Train Prefect Meeting actually been put into place as an official rule, or had Professors Snape or Umbridge managed to block it? Maybe there was a way to stop this before someone got hurt. She was distracted by the scream of delight that rose from the Slytherin stands, as Ron had missed and Warrington had scored.

"_WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
__HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN…"_

Lee was trying to commentate, but was almost impossible to hear over the singing, especially when Pucey scored again. It sounded like someone had been handing out _Sonorous_ Charms.

It wasn't hard to see that the Gryffindors were starting to panic, as Ron missed two more saves in quick succession. Angelina managed to score when Bletchley joined in the chorus, distracted for a few crucial seconds, but it was still forty-ten in Slytherin's favour, and they were once more in possession of the Quaffle.

It must have seemed like a god-send when both Seekers suddenly went into a steep dive, neck and neck. The Gryffindors' good fortune was somewhat marred, however, when Pucey scored again, catching the Quaffle and throwing it to Montague, who faked left and threw right, scoring a final goal just as Harry barely beat Draco to the snitch.

The Gryffindor stands exploded in cheers, and Roisin quickly gathered her First-Years. "Come on, everyone. We're getting out of here before someone starts a fight. I'll see you later, Luna, everyone."

* * *

Back in the Common Room when the rest of the Slytherins started to trickle in, Roisin was not happy, and extremely glad that the match was over. As if the current social climate wasn't bad enough as it was! She couldn't do much, since there were too many for her to cast a silencing spell on all of them, and now that it had proven effective, they would probably use it every time Gryffindor took to the pitch, but she could do something. Roisin turned to the First-Years, "Let me be very clear: if I catch any of you repeating that song, you'll be spending a week helping Filch with the worst he can come up with. If I catch you twice, you'll be spending a week with the worst _I_ can come up with. Understood?"

They all nodded as Draco limped in, looking very much the worse for wear, proving Roisin's prediction that he would instigate a fight and come out on the losing end. Knowing him, he probably hadn't made sure that Harry and/or the other Weasleys were gone before insulting Ron again, and pushed too far.

He looked pleased about something, however, which meant that Roisin would be spending tomorrow and possibly the rest of the week trying to placate the Gryffindors. She hoped her basilisk-skin armor still fit. "Do I want to know what you look so happy about, especially after you clearly had your backside handed to you on a silver platter?"

Draco looked affronted at the wording, wincing as he sat down. "Umbridge got carried away. Potter and one of the Weasley Twins are banned from future matches, unless someone can get it overturned when Umbridge is gone, and she even banned the other Twin, who was restrained by his team-mates and didn't do anything, with the excuse that they could try to switch without anyone being able to tell them apart."

All in all, it might have been better if one of the twins had been left on the team, as the two of them were so in tune that it would be even harder for them to sync with a new beater, rather than get two new ones who could be trained to work together.

Roisin sighed. "Tell everyone to brush up on protective and defensive spells. The rest of the school is not going to be happy and those of us that they don't actively hate are supposedly on the outs, so we won't be able to protect you all the time."

Draco nodded. "I'll tell the other years." He stood, but paused. "Um, do you know any healing spells? Professor McGonagall went to get a Calming Potion from Madam Pomfrey, so I don't want to go near the Hospital Wing until I know she's gone."

As a matter of fact, no, Roisin was not good with Healing Spells, and was cross enough that she probably couldn't use them on Draco if she did. Like Curses, Healing Spells were largely based on the intent of the caster, and Roisin wasn' feeling very benevolent. And what else had Draco done that he was actually scared to go near the terrifying but fair Transfiguration Professor? "Go ask Desdemona or Millicent. Desdemona's caused enough chaos that her parents just taught her a few basic healing charms so that she could fix herself up if they happened to be absent."

* * *

Two days after the Quidditch Match, by which time Draco had loudly commented that he thought that Roisin would have calmed down enough not to hex him on sight (she hadn't wanted to hex him in the first place, as she happened to agree, but sent a Stinging Hex at one of his larger bruises to keep up appearances), which meant she could stop walking on eggshells around the other Houses, the Slytherin Prefects held yet another meeting. "How do you think the Quidditch Match went as far as pleasing Umbridge and annoying the Gryffindors?"

Sitting on the bed, next to Ophelia, Roisin lifted an eyebrow. "The rhythm was horrible, and most of the Gryffindors are angrier at Ron than you, though they agree that your remarks after the match were out of line and that you deserved getting beaten up. However, it was effective, and Umbridge was probably glad of the excuse. Next order of business?"

Anton sighed, somehow managing to slouch in a straight-backed chair. "The Oaf Who Wants To Kill His Students is back."

Roisin hadn't realized that Umbridge had left – oh. "You mean Hagrid? Blast it, just when I was hoping that Professor Grubbly-Plank would be here long enough for us to make a case that she'd been for so long that she might as well replace Hagrid for the rest of the year."

Draco nodded miserably. "Yeah. You know what's worse? We have Dawn Patrol tonight and Care of Magical Creatures first thing tomorrow."

With no First-Years around to pick up on it, Roisin swore loudly. Ophelia tried to look sympathetic, but it came off as a 'Better You Than Me' expression. "Look on the bright side. Ten more months and you will have taken your OWLs and can drop it forever. That's what nearly everyone in the classes above you did. Well, except for the ones who actually needed a NEWT in Care of Magical Creatures for their future career, anyway."

Given that they still had ten more months, this was not as helpful as Ophelia had intended. Draco and Roisin glared at her.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Right, another chapter done. It's a bit shorter than the previous few, but there wasn't any other good place to stop._

_The '__Weasley Is Our King'__ song was ridiculous and over-the-top, but it does have a precedent in 'Quidditch Through The Ages', where it says that the Wimbledon Wasps supporters buzz loudly to distract attacking Chasers. Better than the Appleby Arrows, whose supporters shot arrows out of their wands whenever the team scored._

_I talked to various sports-fanatic family members, who all assured me that it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. I am reminded why I prefer books to sports, and why I tended to get detention on School Sports Days, when I knew that my House had just done something good because everyone around me was cheering enough to make me look up from whatever novel I was reading._

_I still maintain that my goal of reading the entire library was more important than paying attention to a team made up of students who almost certainly were going to lose anyway, no matter how hard we cheered. We won the Creative Arts Competitions, not the Sports ones, and everyone knew it._

_Sports fans who are reading this, you are perfectly allowed to disagree, and I understand that everyone has their likes and dislikes. Sports just happen to be among my dislikes, unless my god-brother is forcing me to watch the football with him and glaring every time I ask why people would voluntarily subject themselves to a game where at least one person always comes out injured._

_He glared even more when my sister said that people don't jump on each other that enthusiastically unless sex is involved. My god-mother thought it was hilarious._

_I said this in another fic, but it bears repeating: can __someone__ recommend a fairy-tale where the Male Protagonist isn't blundering around without a clue until a magical being/old man/wise woman/the Damsel in Distress tells them what to do? Exceptions are made for stories where the Male Protagonist is the one in need of rescue in the first place, and tell the Female Protagonist what she has to do to rescue them._

_Girls, go to a bookstore and find the book '__Tatterhood – and other tales__'. I also highly recommend '__Fearless Girls, Wise Women and Beloved Sisters__'. Guys, if your egos can handle books filled solely with female Heroes, where the men are often the ones in need of rescue,(my god-brothers couldn't, so no offence if you're made of stronger stuff) you should go read those books too. _

_Thanks, Nat._


	75. Christmas is Coming

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE**

At the Slytherin table the next morning, no one was happy, especially not the Care of Magical Creatures class. The only bright side was when they looked at the other tables, where their classmates were looking equally displeased. Roisin sprinkled lemon and a bit of sugar over her pancakes, indulging herself with the air of one who is enjoying a last meal. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really hope Umbridge inspects Hagrid soon."

Draco looked up from where he had been staring miserably into his porridge. "I can't believe it either. Why would you want to see more of her?"

Pansy elbowed him, looking slightly more cheerful. "Because unless Granger is planning his lessons for him and coaching him on what to say, there is no way he'll pass, even without her bias. I just hope she does it before he puts us through anything too lethal."

Theo sighed. "From your lips to the Gods' ears, Pansy. Come on, we might as well get it over with."

Roisin slumped in her chair, but reluctantly stood, looking at the nearby First-Years. "If I'm not here at lunch, check the Hospital Wing."

Parvati and Lavender joined them on the way down to Hagrid's hut, both looking ready to cry. Roisin touched Parvati's arm. "I've been studying up on what Professor Grubbly-Plank was planning to teach us and what's covered in the owls. You can borrow them to copy later."

Lavender pounced on the idea. "If Hagrid comes up with his usual stuff, you may end up with a small fortune from selling copies. I'll pay you two sickles for a copy of your notes so far!"

Roisin shook her head. "One is fine, and that's just to pay for the parchment I'll be using up. This is practically public service, after all. A bit like the DA."

Desdemona laughed. "How much would the Toad hate that comparison? They both can't teach worth a damn, they both endanger the students and their marks… Hagrid just doesn't bother to hide the fact behind Ministry propaganda."

* * *

Even Harry, Ron and Hermione, Hagrid's most adamant supporters, looked worried as they joined the thoroughly depressed class. The worry only grew worse when he showed up covered in purple, yellow and green bruises, and several still-bleeding cuts. The Slytherins exchanged near-panicked looks. Did that mean they would be dealing with something capable of injuring a half-giant? A few detentions for not showing up to class wouldn't be the end of the world, as long as they studied and passed the OWL exams, right?

Hagrid was also carrying what looked like half of a dead cow over one shoulder, which in itself was enough to make Pansy turn green. He jerked an enormous shoulder toward the Forbidden Forest, causing more than one student to turn pale. "We're working in here today! Bit more sheltered. Anyway, they prefer the dark."

That did not sound promising. They all clustered closer to the slightly comforting bulk of Greg and Vince. Draco had been in the Forbidden Forest once for detention, and if he remembered it from four years ago, it must have been memorable, and not in a good way. He didn't bother to disguise the panic in his voice, which said even more. "What prefers the dark? What did he say prefers the dark – did you hear?"

Prefers the dark and lives in the Forbidden Forest. That offered many possibilities, and none of them reassuring. Blaise had mentioned going in there once while Roisin was petrified in Second Year, and Roisin's mind instantly went to the worst, her voice trembling. "Even Hagrid wouldn't be daft enough to show us the Acromantula colony, would he?"

Ron, close enough to overhear them, turned a previously undiscovered shade of greenish-white and glared at her. "Thanks for the nightmares."

Hagrid somehow missed that no-one wanted to go near the forest, and looked positively cheerful. "Ready? I've been saving a trip to the Forest for yer Fifth-Year. Thought we'd see the creatures in their natural habitat."

Roisin was terrified enough of Hagrid's idea of 'safe-for-students' creatures outside of their natural habitat, where there were places to run away. She didn't want to see them in their natural habitat, either, especially if said habitat was the Forbidden Forest. This seemed to be a collective opinion, but again, Hagrid didn't notice. "Now, what we're studying today is pretty rare. I reckon I'm the only one in Britain to have tamed 'em."

That had been what he said about the Blast-Ended Skrewts last year, and see how that had turned out! Desdemona actually whimpered, clutching Theo's arm. Draco refused to remain quiet. "And you're sure they're trained, are you?" The panic in his voice had not lessened. "Only it's not the first time you've brought wild things to class, is it?"

When Gryffindors looked ready to admit that their more-hated-than-usual enemy might actually have a point, and two groups who were (supposedly to all outward appearances) against each other were willing to solidly unite on an issue, you knew it was bad. Hagrid scowled and hoisted the cow higher on his shoulder. "Of course they're trained!"

Hagrid's idea of 'safe, trained and/or misunderstood' generally translated to everyone else's idea of 'should be handled by professionals and viewed with use of omnioculars from a far distance'. Draco did not look reassured and folded his arms. "What happened to your face, then?"

"Mind yer own business!" Hagrid said, angrily. "Now, if yeh've finished with asking stupid questions, follow me!"

Hagrid only got that defensive over things that no-one else ended up liking. Nearly everyone looked longingly back at the castle, but reluctantly obeyed, following Harry, Ron and Hermione into the Forest. Draco made a break for it, but was blocked by Desdemona, Theo and Roisin, who knew that Greg and Vince would follow Draco away, and had no intention of giving up a human shield. Scowling, he turned back to the Forbidden Forest. "At least the Gryffindors will get eaten first."

* * *

They walked for about ten minutes, finally stopping in a clearing where the trees were gathered so close together that it seemed like twilight, rather than mid-morning. Most of the students were moving from tree to tree, and nearly everyone had their wand out. Hagrid dropped the cow on the ground, looking at them encouragingly. "Gather roun', gather roun'. Now, they'll be attracted by the smell of the meat, but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, cause they'll like to know it's me."

Know it was him? They were dealing with another of Hagrid's 'pets'? Pansy was nearly hysterical, clinging to Draco. "Meat as in the cow, or us? I want to switch to Muggle Studies! I don't care how much catching up I have to do, it has to be better than this!"

Draco patted her arm, looking around nervously, and thoughts of how Mr Malfoy would react to the idea were probably the only thing stopping him from leading the way to do exactly that. Lavender screamed and grabbed onto Seamus as Hagrid let out an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the trees, making the general atmosphere even more foreboding.

A few minutes later, Roisin was actually relieved to see a Thestral slowly approaching through the trees. "Someone explain to me why we're in the Forbidden Forest looking at Thestrals, which most of us can't even see to study, rather than outside learning about the Crups we were supposed to be starting?"

Theo actually slumped in relief, spotting another one coming from a different direction. "Because it's Hagrid? Besides, it's not like there aren't plenty of other things to be afraid of while Hagrid's cooing over his pets."

Greg looked ready to thump him for the reminder, but managed not to. "Did you have to point that out? I want to go back to the castle."

By now, Hagrid was the only one to look even slightly happy. "Oh, an here comes another one. Now, put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Roisin, Theo, Neville and Harry all raised their hands. Roisin frowned for a moment, wondering who Harry had seen. He had mentioned that he remembered Aunt Lily dying when he came close to Dementors, and one of the Death Eaters had been throwing curses at everyone when he had been hit with Roisin's magnified stinging hex in the Graveyard last June… it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for one of them to have been killed in front of him.

Deciding not to ask, Roisin was drawn back to the lesson when Parvati squealed and darted behind the nearest tree as a Thestral passed very close to her. "I think I felt something! I think it's near me!"

Hagrid's patient tone, as if indulging an excitable toddler, made Roisin want to hit something. Hard. How did he manage to remain so calm when most of the class was very obviously terrified? "Don't worry, it won't hurt yeh. Right, now, who can tell me why some of yeh can see em and some can't?"

Hermione, as usual, was the first to raise her hand. Hagrid beamed at her, probably relieved that someone was willing to answer questions, rather than protest and beg to be excused. "Go on, Hermione."

Roisin didn't know how Hermione was so calm, either. "The only people who can see Thestrals are people who have seen death."

A fact which was hardly reassuring to those who were debatably fortunate enough to not be able to see them. Hagrid nodded. "That's exactly right, ten points to Gryffindor. Now, Thestrals – "

It was the first and most likely last time Roisin was actually pleased to hear Umbridge's fake little cough. The toad-woman had to repeat it as Hagrid had never heard the sound before, but he greeted her cheerfully. "Oh, hello."

Umbridge was not so cheerful, though Hagrid was probably the first one to greet her with anything better than cold civility. She spoke very loudly and deliberately, as though talking to a particularly slow foreigner. "You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

Hagrid was somehow oblivious to the danger signs. "Oh, yeah. Glad you foun' the place all right. As you can see – I dunno, can yeh? We're doing Thestrals today?"

He hadn't given directions, so Umbridge could have been lost in the Forest? Damn. Umbridge cupped a hand around her ear. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Hagrid looked confused, raising his voice. "Er, Thestrals. Big – er – winged horses, yeh know?"

He flapped his arms, in case Umbridge was hard of hearing, and Roisin sighed. Hagrid was giving Umbridge every excuse she needed. At this rate, the entire class could give him a standing ovation, and Hagrid still wouldn't pass. Umbridge was taking notes. "_has… to… resort… to… crude… sign… language…"_

Hagrid started to look worried, which was only going to make things worse, as he didn't always deal well with pressure. "Well… anyway… erm… what was I saying?"

"_Appears… to… have… poor… short… term… memory…"_ Umbridge was talking loudly enough for everyone to hear, and while Hermione was scarlet with suppressed rage, more than one other person was looking as though Christmas had come early, hoping that they wouldn't have to have another lesson with Thestrals. Draco looked particularly happy.

Hagrid threw an uneasy glance at Umbridge's clipboard, but pulled himself together. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. Yeah, so we started off with a male and five females. This one," he patted the first of the Thestrals to appear, "name o Tenebris, he's my special favourite, firs' one born here in the Forest – "

Again, Umbridge loudly interrupted. "Are you aware that the Ministry of Magic has classified Thestrals as 'dangerous'?"

It wouldn't be the first time Hagrid had ignored Ministry Regulations. Unfortunately, Professor Umbridge's use of the word 'Dangerous' had coincided exactly with a loud rustle from a nearby bush. Nerves already stretched, Roisin yelped and threw a Stunner directly at the bush. The rustling stopped, and a very unconscious rabbit fell out of the foliage. Her glare was enough to stop anyone from making clever remarks, but not enough to stop the other Slytherins from collapsing in hysterical laughter.

Meanwhile, Hagrid had laughed at the question. "Thestrals aren't dangerous! All righ', they might take a bite out o' yeh if yeh really annoy 'em – "

That sounded dangerous to Roisin, and presumably to Umbridge, as well. "_Shows… signs… of… pleasure… at… the… idea… of… violence…"_

"No, come on – a dog'll bite yeh if yeh bait it." Hagrid looked very anxious now. "Thestrals have jus' got a bit of a bad reputation 'cause of the death thing. People used ter think they were bad omens, didn't they? Jus' didn't understand them, did they?"

Umbridge didn't answer, finishing her notes and using very over-the-top sign language as she spoke. "Please continue teaching the class as usual. I am going to walk among the students and ask them questions."

Even Roisin couldn't stifle a giggle as Umbridge mimed marching, pointing at the students and then at her own mouth, unaware of how ridiculous she looked. Greg leaned over to the others, looking confused. "I know there is a lot of bad stuff in the Forest, but why is she signing about a cannibalistic army?"

Roisin spluttered, while the others, who had just started to collect themselves, collapsed in fits of silent laughter. Roisin quickly sketched the runes for 'small' and 'light' in the air, producing a small, glowing ball so she could see while she started taking her own notes, hoping Umbridge wouldn't try to talk to her, as Hagrid struggled to regain the flow of his lesson. "Erm, anyway… so – Thestrals. Yeah, well, there's a lot o' good stuff about 'em…"

He was distracted by Umbridge questioning Pansy, smiling a bit too widely, showing several teeth. Greg leaned away from her, looking apprehensive, which set all of them off again. Parvati did her best to ignore them as she joined Roisin, sharing the light. "Can you describe them for me?"

Roisin started whispering as Lavender and Desdemona joined them, listening with half an ear as Umbridge questioned Pansy. "Do you find that you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?"

It took several tries for Pansy to answer, and she was so eager to get out of the Forbidden Forest that she went over the top. "No… because… well… it sounds… like grunting a lot of the time."

From behind Umbridge's back, Roisin threw a frown over her shoulder. Yes, Hagrid's voice was loud, and his accent could be very difficult at times, but it was hardly grunting. Hagrid tried to pull things back on track again. "Er… yeah, good stuff about Thestrals. Well, once they're trained, like this lot, yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazing sense of direction, just tell 'em where yeh want ter go – "

"Assuming they can understand you, of course." Said Draco loudly, causing Pansy to collapse again.

Roisin couldn't help herself. "And assuming that you can see and find them in the first place."

Millicent was less than fond of riding anything that took her more than a meter above the ground. "And that you can ride them if you do find them, or at least long enough to get to wherever you were trying to go."

Umbridge gave them all an indulgent look as she questioned Neville. "You can see the Thestrals, can you, Longbottom? Who did you see die?"

That was rather insensitive, even for the Toad-woman, wasn't it? Neville frowned. "My – my Grand-dad."

Umbridge waved a stubby hand at the horses. "And what do you think of them?"

The Thestrals had stripped the Castle nearly to the bone, and several students were looking faintly ill. Neville sent a nervous glance at Hagrid, possibly worried about whatever he said being taken the wrong way. "Erm, well, they're… er… OK."

This was probably the nicest thing anyone had said so far. Umbridge made another note on her clipboard._ "Students… are… too… intimidated… to… admit… they… are… frightened…"_

Perfect thing to say to a Gryffindor, that. Now all of them would give Hagrid glowing comments, whether they meant it or not. Neville looked angry. "No! No, I'm not scared of them!"

Umbridge patted his shoulder with what was probably meant to be a comforting smile, but came off as more like a deranged leer. "It's quite all right. Well, Hagrid, I think I've got enough to be getting on with. You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days."

She mimed taking something from the air, pointed at the clipboard, and held up ten stubby fingers, closing them and walking away. Several students looked as though they were weighting the benefits of following her against the drawbacks of being forced to stay in her company and probably listen to her chatter about the Ministry. Vince had followed Greg's lead in interpreting sign language. "She's adding stars to her clipboard?"

Roisin gave him an odd look as the others went into fits of laughter. Vince looked confused. "What? My mum decorates anything she gets the chance to, even the Kneazles, and since Umbridge has finished the inspections, she won't be needing to carry the clipboard around anymore."

Roisin gave up and laughed.

* * *

The trek out of the Forbidden Forest was nearly as bad as the journey in, but for different reasons. They were still wary of anything big, but it became very tiresome when Draco and Blaise would point and random bushes and shriek "Kill it, kill it!"

They finally shut up when she pulled her wand and threatened to Stun them and leave them in the Forest if they didn't shut up, but by then they had already reached the Hogwarts grounds, so it didn't matter either way. Draco led the others for their obligatory taunting of the trio, and Roisin stalked back to the castle, wondering if it would be possible to make a rune cluster to automatically silence particularly annoying people.

* * *

December brought snow and a positive avalanche of homework, especially for the Fifth-Years. The Prefects had it worse, having to deal with the work on top of extra patrols with Filch, who was convinced that the students would use the holiday to sneak in more confiscated items, help with the decorating (much harder than it sounded when decorating a very large castle while the resident Poltergeist did everything he could to get in the way) and keep an eye on the First-Years. Draco had lost the coin-toss, and had to take care of them when they went to hold snowball fights outside, while Roisin took charge when they came back in, handing out warming charms and hot chocolate to the shivering children.

The annoying thing was the enchanted mistletoe, which Roisin would have expected from Lockhart, and probably this time from Umbridge. A few of the Prefects and Professors had managed to replace some of the mistletoe with the ordinary, non-enchanted kind, but not all of it. The enchanted mistletoe had some kind of spell that held those unfortunate enough to be trapped together in place until they kissed.

Mistletoe was a nice thing for couples, but not so much for single people who were getting very fed up with idiots who kept trying to lurk in doorways in order to jump them. Even more annoying was when people thought it would be fun to trap two people in a doorway together. The enchanted mistletoe had also provided several very awkward situations, such as when the Patil twins had been caught (they got away with a kiss on the cheek), half an hour after the Weasley Twins had fallen victim to the same doorway (and, true to form, made a complete spectacle of themselves that had most of the school laughing with them, rather than at them), and the time Greg and Blaise had been trapped together.

Roisin had been fortunate enough that Colin Creevey had been nearby to take a picture of Blaise's expression when he realized the predicament.

If nothing else, she now had an excellent comeback for the next time he tried to call her frigid.

* * *

When Roisin went to the kitchens to thank the House Elves for their assistance and to organize the end-of-term party, she encountered a bit of a shock. At first, she thought it was a very undersized 'Knitted-Hat-Monster', (maternal second cousin to the Dirty-Sock-Monster, according to one of her pre-Hogwarts friends), but from the frequent, disapproving glares aimed at it from the other House Elves, she concluded that it was just Dobby.

The other House Elves were also not their usual cheerful selves, looking downright annoyed. Deciding that information was better than ignorance, Roisin braced herself. "Is everything all right? Did something bad happen?"

She had been right to brace herself, as the question set them all off, trying to talk over each other until the Head Elf shouted for quiet, sending them all back to work as he led Roisin to a table. "Miss Roisin, ma'am is needing to talk to Harry Potter, sir about stopping it. The gravest of insults, Miss, the most dire of threats! House Elves is having to punish themselves for not carrying out their duties. We is too scared to go to Gryffindor Tower, for fear of horrible things happening! Dobby is doing it all himself, because he is the only one safe from the threat! More terrible than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it is!"

That was… kind of scary. "Who? What can Harry or I do about it?"

The Head Elf pulled on his ears. "The… the _Dark Seamstress_, Miss Roisin, ma'am. She is knitting clothes and hiding them for House Elves to come across! Miss Roisin, ma'am and Harry Potter, sir must talk to her! Otherwise, House Elves are Doomed!"

The little creature was quickly becoming hysterical and Roisin tried to calm him, thinking hard. Who would be daft enough to – wait, Hermione and her ridiculous SPEW from last year. Clearly it was too much to hope that she had given it up in favour of more important things. "I'll try to talk to her, though I can't promise that she'll listen. Meanwhile, send Dobby in first to check for clothing, and the other Elves can take care of the Boys' areas. She can't get in there easily, and most of the boys are smart enough to ignore her."

Dobby popped up out of nowhere, making Roisin jump, as several eavesdropping elves breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled, "I know you're busy, but could I take some sweets up to the Slytherin Common Room? We're having a small party."

The House Elves nodded frantically. "Oh, yes, Miss Roisin, ma'am! We is bringing party food to the Snake Common Room in a few minutes!"

That worked, and saved Roisin from carrying it. She thanked them again and quickly left.

* * *

The House Elves had gone overboard, as their idea of 'party food' did not encompass drinks and a few snacks, but a vast array of little sandwiches, éclairs, tarts, fruit platters, pumpkin juice, Butterbeer, hot chocolate, tea, and a mini-version of the desert course at a Feast.

Popping a tiny tart about half the size of Roisin's thumb into his mouth, Draco looked around in amazement. "What in Merlin's name did you say to them, Roisin? And what was that muttering about a black sewing lady, or whatever it was."

Roisin stifled a giggle. "The _Dark Seamstress_. Apparently, Hermione stepped up her SPEW campaign from last year, knitting hats and leaving them lying around, and the House Elves are seriously upset, to the point that they won't go near Gryffindor Tower. I promised to try and get through to her, though I don't know if that'll work, and asked for a few sweets for the party." She looked around at a table that had just creaked ominously under the weight of food. "It looks like they went a bit overboard."

The rest of Fifth-Year and the other Prefects stared. Ophelia was the first to respond, "Dark Seam – oh, that's just too good!"

Antony managed to speak through a bout of very unmanly giggles. "Can we spread that around?"

It would do Hermione some good to see people bursting into laughter whenever they saw her, but Roisin didn't want her expelled, which she would be if Umbridge found out. "Keep in in the House, and don't let the Toad-Woman hear. Oof, Millie!"

Desdemona was laughing too hard to stand, and had grabbed onto Millicent, who staggered and nearly fell on Roisin. Pushing her off, Roisin wandered off to find the First-Years. One of the Seventh-Years had managed to smuggle in some alcohol, and Roisin didn't want any of them drinking it, thinking it was water.

* * *

Despite the mountain of homework, the DA managed to meet once more, the night before the holidays were due to start.

Gryffindor had finally managed to replace their beaters and seeker, but from what the Slytherins had seen through Roisin's rune vision-spell, they weren't very good, which may have explained the burning, reproachful looks that Angelina was shooting at Harry. She only stopped when the rest of the DA arrived and the meeting was called to order.

It was Harry's turn to talk. "OK, I thought that this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three week break – "

"We're not learning anything new?" Zacharias Smith's whisper was loud enough to be heard by everyone. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

Most people just ignored Smith by now, but Lisbeth Salander, arguably the shyest of the First-Years, spoke up, her voice overly sweet. "You can't be that far behind on your homework, surely! I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to have a work ethic!"

Everyone stared (or glared, in the case of a few of the Hufflepuffs) and Lisbeth squirmed. "What? Roisin used it last night, when Malfoy was trying to convince her to change Patrol shifts so he could finish an essay, except she said that Slytherins were supposed to be cunning enough to always have a back-up plan, even for homework."

Roisin had been being sarcastic, but any kind of Malfoy put-down was a good thing, these days. Most of the room grinned before Harry managed to get things back on track. "We can practice in pairs. We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, and then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

Most quickly formed their usual pairs, but Roisin quickly intercepted Hermione, leaving Desdemona to smirk at a suddenly-apprehensive Ron. "We need to talk."

Hermione looked confused. "_Impedimenta! Finite Incantium._ What did you want to talk about?"

Roisin picked herself up. "_Impedimenta!_ I didn't think it was possible to get House Elves that riled, but did you know that most of them are refusing to go near Gryffindor Tower?_ Finite Incantium!_"

Hermione blinked as she unfroze. "_Impedimenta!_ Why? It's still being cleaned, so how do I know you aren't exaggerating? _Finite Incantium."_

Roisin sighed as she regained the ability to move. "_Impedimenta!_ Dobby, a.k.a. the moving pile of knitted hats. Given that we got a mini-banquet rather than the requested plate of sweets after I promised to talk to you, I think it's pretty serious. _Finite Incantium._"

Hermione was about to reply, but ten minutes was up, and she went to rescue Ron from Desdemona as several cushions appeared. Twenty minutes of Stunning, followed by twenty minutes of hand-to-hand drills, had everyone very glad of ten minutes of yoga to cool down. At the end of the hour, Harry called a halt, beaming around at all of them. "You're all getting really good. When we get back from the holidays, we'll start doing some of the big stuff – maybe even Patronuses."

Shouldn't that be Patroni? Oh, well. There was a loud murmur of excitement, and people began to depart in twos and threes, most of them probably needing to finish packing their trunks.

Cedric was at the door, waiting for friends when a tripping jinx sent Roisin stumbling in that direction. Cedric caught her automatically, which caused several of the DA (most notably Desdemona and the First-Years) to start shrieking, "Mistletoe! Kiss him/her!"

As most of the others joined the chant, Roisin sent them a look that promised trouble and tried to move, only to find that they were stuck under mistletoe of the enchanted variety, which meant that they weren't going anywhere fast. Her follow-up glare had been known to make Mary and Seamus undo whatever prank they had pulled and run for cover, but somehow had no effect on the First-Years other than making them stop cheering. She returned her gaze to Cedric. "Sorry about this."

Cedric shrugged. "It could have been a lot worse." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, an acceptable compromise. She returned the favour, and they both stepped free. Roisin sent a baleful look at the disappointed sighs. "Right, back to the Common Room, and unless someone admits to casting that jinx, I'm telling the House-Elves that you aren't allowed any candy or hot chocolate from next term on!"

Desdemona spluttered. "Oh, now that's just unfair! You wouldn't! Besides, we can just counter-order them!"

Roisin smirked. "Think again. The House Elves actually like me, and I haven't abused my authority as a Prefect yet, so I'm overdue. You're still in their bad books for accidentally throwing your hat at one of them when you missed Draco's head."

They swiftly departed, trying to ignore the laughter that followed them out.

* * *

On the bright side, that night's practice was the first time Roisin had managed a full transformation on her own, even if it had taken nearly ten minutes. Desdemona's shriek when Roisin touched her cheek with a wolf's cold nose, waking her up, was worth not being able to hear anything for the next quarter-hour.

* * *

Roisin didn't see Harry or any of the Weasleys the next morning at breakfast, or on the train. Shrugging it off as probably having Floo-ed directly to Grimmauld Place or the Burrow, rather than having to arrange an entire Order Guard again, Roisin let it go. She had other things to worry about.

Making sure the Wizard-Born First-Years got to their families, Roisin led the others out onto King's Cross Station and made their way onto the street, where their families were waiting for them.

Leaving David and Richard to their parents, Roisin hugged her mother (her father had gone to collect Dudley, who arrived at a different station). "Hi, Mum. I'm home."

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Credit where Credit is due, the 'Dark Seamstress' belongs to Bobmin356's fic 'Saying No', which is funnier than anything I've written. Seriously, go read it._

_We know that Dobby is the only elf willing to clean Gryffindor Tower, but with the House-Elves and their fanatic approach to work of all kinds, how angry or scared would they have to be for that to happen? Just my opinion. As for the enchanted Mistletoe, it is Hogwarts, a school of adolescent children who aren't always very mature when it comes to ensnaring a crush. If people are willing to smuggle in love potions disguised as cough syrup, then they aren't above enchanting mistletoe. _

_Anyway, the next chapter is up, and hopefully the next one will also arrive on schedule. I am starting TAFE on Wednesday, however, so updates might be a bit spotty for a while, what with homework and everything else. The two hours of public transport every day should give me some time, but no promises._

_Thanks to __**AngelQueen, ElisabethAsteriaPotter**__ and __**Eternal Cosmic Sailor Saturn**__ for reviewing._


	76. Christmas Holidays

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX**

She wasn't sure what she had expected when Roisin had anticipated how she wanted her Christmas Holidays to go, but this wasn't quite it. She was in the kitchen, brow furrowed and lips firm as she scrubbed at a treacle-covered pot. (Winky had been sent to Grimmauld Place for a few hours, sulking over her mother's insistence that Gingerbread was a family tradition, including the cleaning up) Flour was streaked over one cheek and the bench was covered with dishes waiting to be washed as laughter drifted from the lounge room.

Roisin couldn't have been happier.

She had almost forgotten her mother's tendency to express affection through baked goods, especially when nick-names would not suit. Petunia was beside her, rinsing and drying the dishes as they laughed and talked about nothing serious, and the smell of gingerbread filled the room.

Dudley was sitting at the table, struggling through his homework, and the twins were carrying on a loud debate on whether or not a Gingerbread Roundhouse (Roisin's attempt at a proper four-walled one kept collapsing in on itself) qualified as an entry for the Christmas Gingerbread House contest. Roisin said that it should, as the rules said nothing about what _kind_ of house it had to be, most mythologies had witches living underground or in caves, and Roundhouses pre-dated four-walled houses in the UK by centuries, so there.

Dudley said that a proper Gingerbread house was the witch's cottage, and in the time when the legend took place, proper four-walls-a-roof-and-multiple-rooms were the standard, so it didn't count, and she was just being stubborn.

It was the closest she had been to her family in years.

* * *

It had been a bit difficult all around, given the amount of Fifth-Year homework. Fortunately, Dudley had nearly as much, so no-one really paid attention to what book was lying where.

"So, Arithmancy is like fortune-telling?"

Roisin considered. "No, a bit more like predisposition by numbers." A blank look from the other two. "OK, think of it like this: everything can boil down to numbers. You take a Character number, and figure out what would be the best course based on what option most closely matches that number. I'm a number eight, so I should try to get important things done on the 8th, 17th or 26th, and will probably be most compatible with other Character number eights. It doesn't mean that I'm not compatible with other numbers, just that I'm best with other eights."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "That must be interesting."

Roisin grimaced. "Yes, but sometimes annoying. The first part of our Arithmancy exam last year was to actually find the classroom. Half of the class didn't even get there until a third of the way through, because they didn't think of using an Arithmancy equation to find the damn place. We wound up in the eighth room in the third corridor on the second floor. 'Arithmancy exam', move each number up a place to adjust for the school layout, then room, corridor and floor."

* * *

Roisin was half-way through her Transfiguration essay when Winky returned, looking serious. As the little House Elf had been a bundle of joy since gaining a new family, this was cause for concern. "Is something wrong, Winky?"

Winky wrung her hands. "It is Miss Roisin's cousin, miss. He is upset about something, and hasn't left his room in two days. Master Diggory sir asked if you could help."

Roisin resisted the urge to swear; three weeks over Christmas, was that so long to keep Harry out of trouble? She checked the time. Dudley was getting a start on his homework, and her parents were out to lunch with some friends who were going somewhere sunny for the Holiday. "Just let me tell Dudley where I'm going."

She left her room to knock on Dudley's door. "Hey, I need to duck out for a second. I'll be back soon."

Her brother looked up. "OK. Hey, is there some kind of way to make multiplying by nine easier?"

Roisin shrugged. "Add ten, then minus one. I shouldn't take too long."

Closing the door again, she took Winky's hand, and they both disappeared with a crack.

They re-appeared in the dining room of Grimmauld Place, the loud '_rack'_ bringing Sirius running. "Oh, it's you. I don't suppose you have any ideas for getting Harry out of that room."

Roisin smiled slightly. "Let me borrow your wand for a minute, please. I'd rather not take the risk of the Ministry catching me."

Cedric, arriving seconds after Sirius, handed his over. "Can I watch? If you have to pull your wand, it's bound to be interesting."

Roisin sighed. The Weasley children and Hermione were likely to come running at some point, so why not add two more. She jogged up the stairs to Harry's room, banging loudly on the door. "I borrowed someone else's wand! You have two minutes to get out of there before I blow the door down and apologize to Sirius later!"

She ignored the choking sounds from behind her, focusing on the slight pause before Harry called back, his voice slightly muffled by the wood. "You wouldn't dare. Besides, everyone's avoiding me anyway, so I might as well be comfortable while I'm being ignored."

Was now really the time for a session of teenage angst? "I don't know what's going on, but I wouldn't have expected you to go off and hide. You're down to thirty seconds, by the way!"

There was a frustrated noise from inside the room. "Fine, but only because I don't want to have to replace the door."

The door opened just enough to let a person in, and Roisin swept through. "So, what has a Gryffindor hiding from the world?"

Harry sighed, knowing that his cousin wouldn't be leaving until she got answers. "I had a dream… a vision… of Mr Weasley being attacked by a huge snake, but in the vision, I was the snake that attacked him. Then, when we were visiting him in St Mungo's, we overheard Moody and Tonks talking about how Dumbledore thought that Voldemort was possessing me… what if it happens again? What if I attack Ron next time, or Hermione, or Sirius?"

Well, that was certainly cause to be upset, but if Mr Weasley was still alive, it couldn't have been that bad. Before she could come up with anything reassuring to say, however, Harry spoke abruptly. "How is your holiday going so far?"

Roisin didn't miss that it was an attempt to change the subject, or the seriousness that lay under the would-be casual question. "Surprisingly well. Dudley actually asked about my homework the other day. Mum and Dad just keep telling themselves that History of Magic and Ancient Runes are just focused areas of History, and Herbology is like studying horticulture." She paused a moment. "You probably don't want to know what they have to say about Hagrid and Professor Snape, though."

Her father had caught sight of her Monster Book of Monsters and some of her homework from when they were studying Blast-Ended Skrewts (including a sketch) while she was looking up a reference. After a severely edited explanation about the kind of creatures they usually studied, both parents had been ranting about child endangerment, teachers who had no idea of what was appropriate learning material, and the insensitivity of teaching about a creature that less than a third of the class could see, especially with the constant reminder that those who could see Thestrals were only able to do so after the trauma of seeing another person die. What they called Hagrid didn't bear repeating.

Harry had probably guessed that it wouldn't have been nice, because he didn't ask. "What about Professor Snape?"

That was probably out of morbid curiosity, and the impression that they would be pleased with the mutual hatred of Harry. Actually, it was the other way around. Roisin had no intention of repeating what her mother had called her Head of House, either, but the bare basics couldn't hurt. "Apparently, they grew up in the same area, so Mum and Aunt Lily knew him when they were kids. He told Aunt Lily about being a witch when he saw her use accidental magic to literally fly off a swing-set. Mum said that he was always using magic to play tricks on her, and Aunt Lily once got really angry when he dropped a branch on her head. They didn't like each other very much."

Harry muttered something that sounded a lot like '_I can imagine'_, but they were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing and Mrs Black starting to screech at the intruder. Winky appeared with a crack. "Miss Roisin is needing to go home now." She cast a disapproving look at the door. "Shall Winky help make others leave Harry Potter, sir alone?"

Harry had experienced Dobby's idea of 'help' before, and hid a wince. "No, thank you."

Roisin frowned. "You are going to have to talk to them at some point, you know."

Harry scowled. "They've been avoiding me, but fine."

Roisin hugged him and took Winky's little hand. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

* * *

The 23rd of December was relatively quiet, at first. Vernon was reading a newspaper, muttering about how the world would be better off it politicians didn't take advantage of people going away at Christmas to try and sneak motions or polls through when everyone was too busy celebrating to pay attention, Petunia was crocheting a throw for a Christmas Charity Drive, and Roisin and Dudley were finishing their Homework. Roisin's Arithmancy textbook was enough to make fellow students cringe, so Roisin had done most of that on the train, and finished the rest at night, and was now busy with Ancient Runes. Being away from Desdemona did wonders for your levels of concentration.

At around two-thirty, the doorbell rang. On her way back downstairs from fetching a reference book for ancient runes, Roisin went to answer it, blinking in surprise as she recognized the visitor.

Standing on the doorstep in jeans and a sweater, Cedric gave her the slightly sheepish grin that she recognized from whenever Seamus needed help getting out of trouble. "Hi Roisin. Can I ask you a favour?"

Roisin was a Slytherin, and the daughter of a Company Director. "That depends on the favour. Come in and tell me about it." She led him into the living room, "Mum, Dad, we have an unexpected visitor. This is Cedric Diggory."

Petunia finished a stitch and raised an eyebrow. "That nice young man you mentioned in your letters? It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Cedric bowed slightly. "Thank you, ma'am. Actually, I came by to ask Roisin a favour, so I'll try not to take up too much of your time."

Roisin moved her homework to a side table and gestured for him to sit down. "So, what is this favour?"

Cedric tried not to pull a face, and Dudley looked up in interest. "Somehow, the Society Matrons found out that Cho and I broke up, and the Ministry Ball is tomorrow. Essentially, I either have confirmed prior plans, or I spend hours trying to hide from Match-making Mothers, Social Climbers twice my age, and schoolmates who know that it'll be a lot harder for me to turn them down in public."

Roisin barely managed not to smirk. The break-up wasn't exactly a secret, and Society Matrons were the biggest gossips in the world. "Essentially, you need me to claim that you already promised me that you'd visit tomorrow night, and can you hide out here until it's over?"

Cedric looked even more uncomfortable. "If you insist on putting it like that, yes. I'll take you out to Carols by Candle-light if staying in is an issue."

If it had been solely up to her, Roisin would have instantly agreed (being forced to socialize with the Ministry and its associates would be a trial for anyone), but it wasn't totally her call. Also, the Church was having a Christmas Eve Mass and Party, which Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had already planned to attend. The Dursleys were not practicing Christians, but they did show up at Christmas and Easter, and took part in the social events and charities, mostly for the show of things. For their sake, Roisin was willing to show up and pay lip service. She turned to her parents, who were watching with interest. "Is that all right?"

Vernon and Petunia exchanged looks. They were still a bit leery of wizards, but this one at least seemed as normal as Magic Folk were likely to get, had manners, and didn't seem likely to treat them as less than human. It could be viewed as a less traumatizing introduction to their daughter's world than watching your sister swing high enough to break her neck, or having tree branches dropped on your head like that nasty Snape boy used to do. "All right. It will be nice to meet some of Roisin's school friends. It won't be a hassle to have one more at the service or the Christmas Party."

The Diggorys were not Religious, either, but History of Magic made you very good at sitting still and pretending to pay attention. Cedric gave a sigh of relief, and a quick grin at Roisin's suddenly worried expression. "Thank you, Mrs Dursley." He sketched a quick half-bow. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

He quickly departed, and Roisin went back to her homework, wondering what she had just let herself in for. She looked up as her father cleared his throat. "Well, he seems like a nice young man."

Roisin nodded. Even the most anti-Hufflepuff in the country couldn't argue that fact. "He is, yes. It's a pity that there aren't more of him." Blaise was still a self-centered jerk, as far as Roisin was concerned.

Her parents exchanged another look, before Petunia spoke, seeming to choose her words carefully. "Roisin, dear, is there something we should know about?"

Being in the middle of a complex Runic translation, (she couldn't match Hermione for sheer intellect, but Roisin did have her beat on creativity for extra credit, and had every intention of milking that for all its considerable worth) it took Roisin a few moments to register the question. "Oh! No, nothing like that, we're just good friends! Besides, we both just recently went through break-ups, and I don't plan on a rebound relationship."

Petunia smiled, again feeling thankful that being Magical didn't automatically exclude one from bonding over things. Well, that was good. Rebound relationships never ended well, and this Diggory boy seemed nice. "No need to get worked up, dear. There's no harm in taking a break from romance, especially in your O-Level year."

Roisin smiled and finished the last of the set problems. Now, Professor Babbling had assigned them to invent a quote that embodied both the student's House, while incorporating at least one other. Roisin would bet that most of her classmates would go for the more obvious and compatible (Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw and Slytherin), but she had never mindlessly followed the flow before, and had no intention of starting now.

She needed something to do with Ambition, but also touching on other House traits. Maybe she could get an idea from other famous phrases. "Hey, what are some well-known quotes?"

Her father gave what might have been either a huff or a chuckle from behind his paper. "Murphy's Law: Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the most inconvenient possible time."

Petunia smiled faintly. "Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak."

Dudley looked up from where he was struggling through his English Literature homework. "_Que Sera, Sera? Veni, vidi, vici?_ What do those even mean?"

It showed a lot about how much her brother had changed that he was trying to do things himself. Roisin tapped her quill against the ink-pot. "Good pronunciation. In reverse order: 'I came, I saw, I conquered' and 'What will be, will be'. Actually, that's not bad, thanks!"

Dudley looked surprised that his scholastic input had actually been helpful, which, admittedly, didn't happen often. "You're welcome. What's a good quote for Hamlet in relation to Ophelia?"

Roisin couldn't help but smirk with an idea for that. "_Doubt thou that stars are fire,_

_Doubt that the sun doth move,_

_Doubt Truth to be a liar,_

_But never doubt, I love._

Don't try to use it as a pick up line, though. If the girl has any knowledge of Shakespeare, it won't work."

Cormac McLaggen had tried to use that memorable one on a Ravenclaw sitting at the table next to Roisin's at the Yule Ball last year. The Ravenclaw, being slightly more familiar with the play, had told him to shove off and go insane over someone else.

Now, back to her own work. Que Sera, Sera was more along the lines of Hufflepuff fatalistic acceptance, but if you changed it a bit… added a few things…and to re-translate into a new phrase…

That would work, and it included three of the four Houses. Granted, it was more what Slytherin _should _be, rather than the common perception, but that was a good thing. 'With Planning and Persistence, My Will, Will Be'.

* * *

Blaise was still a jerk, but the charmed hair-comb to keep her hair in place was far too useful to throw out just because Roisin was angry with him. Her mother had gone shopping before she came home for the holidays, worried that Roisin might not have any suitable 'normal' clothing. Thankfully, her taste of what was 'appropriate' was a lot better when it came to Roisin than Dudley, who had finally talked their parents into letting him have a say when it came to clothing.

This dress, one of several, and which Petunia had bought specifically for the Christmas Party, was dark green, with poinsettias embroidered around the collar. It was a bit silly, something that would look adorable on a younger girl, but it was only for Christmas, and her parents loved it. Hearing a high-pitched scold to sit still from down the hall, Roisin grinned. Mrs. Crouch might have died over a decade ago, but Winky still remembered how to do an older woman's hair for a nice social occasion. Roisin hadn't known that was part of a House-Elf's duties, but then, she couldn't see Narcissa Malfoy doing her own hair, either.

Further thoughts were put on hold as the doorbell rang, and Roisin heard Dudley grumbling about girls taking forever to get ready. As about every boy she knew had said something to that effect at least once, even if most of them were smart enough to follow up with a compliment, Roisin didn't take offence as she ran to answer.

Cedric was at the door, in a nice collared shirt and pants. Seeing her outfit, he grinned broadly. Roisin fixed him with a pointed look. "Mum thought it was cute, and I didn't have the heart to say anything. Be quiet."

Cedric raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, but didn't get the chance to reply before the rest of the family joined them and they left.

* * *

Roisin's mother was a gossip, but contrary to popular claim, she wasn't the only one, and the whispers started as soon as Roisin and Cedric entered the church holding hands. It was more because Cedric had managed to forget his gloves and Roisin's hands were still warm, but gossips seldom paid attention to the real reason behind things.

Christmas services were easier to tolerate than most, as it was mostly about God sending Jesus to save Mankind (Roisin was more impressed that Joseph loved Mary enough to remain married, rather than expose her to scorn and possibly death), a few prayers and some carols. Best of all, you didn't actually have to sing, just stand up, if you weren't comfortable singing in public. It was probably the first time that the long hours in History of Magic actually came in useful.

Those with young children who hadn't been able to find a babysitter usually went home afterward, but the others went into the attached social hall for refreshments and a party. It wasn't too unlike the Celebrations that marked Yule the rest of the time.

Of course, at most Yule parties, people weren't quite so obvious about their curiosity about if two people were dating or not. To his credit, Cedric handled it well as he spun Roisin around the dance floor, ignoring the whispers. "It would have been worse if I was stuck going to the Ministry with my parents, trust me."

Roisin didn't doubt it, and spend the night catching up with people she hadn't seen in five years, dancing, and deflecting questions about if she and Cedric were a couple and how cute they looked together. She even managed to drag her brother onto the floor once.

It was kind of amusing as they stumbled through modern dance moves and watched other people attempt to mime their way through '_Summer Nights'_, which was apparently included in everything that had a DJ, and slightly embarrassing when they were the only ones outside of a few older couples who knew how to waltz. Everyone cheered when they finished, however, so they couldn't have been too bad.

Finally, as the hour grew later and later, people began to drift out and away home, and so did the Dursley family plus one. At the front step, Cedric hugged Roisin and shook hands with the other three. "Thank you for having me over tonight. Merry Christmas."

Roisin hugged him back. "Our pleasure. Merry Christmas to you, too."

Quickly glancing around, Cedric disappeared with a crack, and Roisin elbowed her smirking brother as they headed inside.

* * *

Roisin hadn't actually celebrated Christmas for several years, and hadn't had a chance to go shopping in the Muggle World. As such, her gifts for her family were mostly hand-crafted and had a magical element to them.

Dudley received a segmented folder with a complex sketch on the front. Hidden within the sketch were the hieroglyphs for 'chronicle' and 'scribe', as well as the rune for order. Knowing her brother's talent for chronic messiness, Roisin had made the folder as a way to keep his study notes in order. All he needed to do was write the subject and date at the top of his class and study notes, and the folder would automatically put it in order.

After the success with her father's translation tie-pin, several other foreign companies were opening negotiations for drill contracts. A small paperweight, inscribed with the same runes, as well as the Sumerian symbols for 'all', 'thoughtlessness' and 'deception', would allow everyone in the room to understand each other, while under the impression that each was hearing their native language being spoken, and a general disinclination to question it.

To the same end, Roisin gave her mother a cookbook of recipes from around the world, which had a little person in the traditional dress of the country it came from, which explained and gave detailed instructions, as well as the best substitute ingredients. Petunia Dursley's desserts would be the envy of the neighbourhood within a month.

The gifts she had received were interesting, too. Petunia had given her a hair decoration that had once been given to her by Aunt Lily. It was made of enlarged snowflakes, the ice-crystals charmed to never melt or disappear, no matter the temperature. The main clip was decorated with three snowflakes about an inch in diameter, while smaller flakes, each perfectly formed and about the size of her smallest nail were attached to fine silver wire, fanning across her head. It made her look as though she had just come inside, with snowflakes still caught in her hair. The large snowflake pendent from her father was silver and aquamarines, without any magic, but completed the ensemble perfectly.

Dudley's gift made her burst out laughing. It was a poster, depicting an unhappy-looking, very-obviously-cartoon vampire holding a mug of coffee, and the caption 'NOT a morning person!' Roisin planned to hang it next to her bed and see how long it took her Dorm-mates to notice and go into shock.

The Slytherin boys had joined up to get her a book on advanced Ancient Runes, while the girls had given her a holly and an oak charm for her bracelet. Harry had given her a numerology book, while Hermione had sent a homework planner. Roisin was willing to bet that she had given those to Ron and Harry, as well, but doubted that they would get much use from the boys.

Cedric had sent a bonsai Christmas tree, complete with miniscule lights and tinsel, and flowers. Roisin had sent him the same kind of folder she had given Dudley, knowing that parchment notes were even harder to keep track of, and NEWTs were even worse than OWLs.

* * *

A few days before the start of term, Roisin frowned over a letter from Harry. Apparently, he was going to have Occumancy lessons with Professor Snape, and there was a small rant that Hermione actually expected it to go well, and that Professor Snape would treat him fairly. To the credit of everyone else who knew about the upcoming lessons (the Weasleys and the rest of the Order) she was the only one. Hedwig was quickly flying to the O'Conner Keep, clutching a letter that asked if Fionna, Nessa or Michael knew anyone trustworthy enough to teach Harry Occumancy.

On the train back to Hogwarts, Roisin went to find Harry, hoping to talk about Occlumency lessons, before the Slytherin Prefects met to plan their next move. It wasn't long before she managed to find Neville and Luna, who said that they hadn't seen them. She spent a few minutes chatting with them before she left to search the rest of the train, but was finally forced to conclude that Harry, along with Hermione and the Weasleys, had gone to Hogwarts by alternate means.

Deciding that she could wait until Hogwarts to talk to them, Roisin tracked down her other friends. "Hey, all. How were your holidays?"

Desdemona gave her a sly look. "Less exciting than yours, I'm sure. Word in the tea rooms is that Diggory spent Christmas with you, Rosie. Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Roisin sighed. She had given up trying to stop Desdemona calling her that annoying nick-name. "Not really. It was more of a 'hide-me-from-the-matchmakers' visit than anything. He came over Christmas Eve, we danced a bit at the local Christmas Party until the Ministry Ball was over, and then he went home. There really wasn't much to it."

Pansy smiled slyly. "I bet you'd like there to be, though. Diggory isn't exactly bad-looking."

Roisin blushed faintly and rolled her eyes. "Good_bye_, everyone. I have a meeting with the Prefects to attend."

The Prefects met up in a compartment that Amanda had claimed early on, and set up privacy charms. Draco passed around a box of chocolate frogs, "Any ideas for the coming term?"

Roisin shrugged. "I say continue as we have, but drop a few hints that everything is not as it seems. A few words to some of the school gossip-mongers, or a few deliberately nice acts when the teachers aren't around could go a surprisingly long way."

Ophelia nodded. "Sounds good to me. Next issue?"

Draco winced. "Mother and Father were making discreet inquiries at the Ministry parties over the holidays. It sounds like the 'Enforcement Group' will be coming up in a month or so. People were muttering about if Madam Marchbanks might have had a point in that _Prophet_ article."

Amanda scowled. "Damn. I suppose we continue with that plan, then?"

Dimitri sighed. "It looks like it. Good luck, Roisin, Ophelia."

Roisin made a face. "Thanks. See if you can divert whatever nastier punishments come our way, please."

* * *

It didn't take long for Fionna to write back, and she had only been delayed be the necessity of finding someone suitable. Apparently, she had talked to a solicitor who had lost his family to a Death Eater who had been cleared by the British Ministry, had offered a Magical Vow on top of his Client Confidentiality, and was an old school friend of hers. He had offered to meet Harry on the next Hogsmeade weekend to discuss lesson times and the fee, which Sirius already intended to cover (_"and no arguments, Pronglet, it's the least I can do!")._

Feeling very pleased, and wondering if she could convince Harry to let her sit in, Roisin walked up to the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving the First-Years with Draco for tutoring.

It looked like Fred and George were showcasing their inventions again, because the Gryffindor Common Room was filled with shrieks of laughter and excitement, packed so full that Roisin could barely move. There couldn't be that many Gryffindors in the castle, surely?

"Headless Hats!" Roisin managed to suppress a wince at the name as probably Fred waved a hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at the watching crowd. Actually, Roisin thought that she could see a few hints of Hufflepuff Yellow and Ravenclaw blue among the Gryffindor Red, which accounted for the room being so full. "Two Galleons each! Watch Fred, now!"

Fred swept the hat onto his head with a flourish and a beaming smile that made Roisin roll her eyes. For a second he merely looked rather ridiculous; then both head and hat vanished. There were one or two screams, but mostly roars of laughter. Roisin finally spotted the Trio in a window-seat and started to fight her way over. Luna, sitting near the fire with Ginny and Neville, started to follow her, just as Harry stood up and headed to the Boys Dorms, looking pale and drawn.

She sat down next to Hermione, who for once was not trying to spear the Weasley Twins with a disapproving glare. "What's wrong with Harry? The extra lessons he wrote me about shouldn't leave him like that!"

Hermione started a bit. "He had his first lesson with Professor Snape. Did he tell you why?"

Roisin nodded as Ron huffed. "I bet Snape isn't trying all that hard, either. Harry looked like death warmed over."

Hermione fixed Ron with a disapproving look. "You need to stop being so suspicious. Professor Dumbledore said that it was for the best and that Professor Snape was the only one who could teach Harry properly."

Roisin blinked. "That is one of the stupidest ideas I've ever heard!"

Hermione looked startled. "Well, Harry does need to learn to protect…"

Roisin waved a dismissive hand, cutting her off. Aside from the fact that Professor Snape hated Harry too much for Roisin to trust him not to teach Harry badly out of pure spite, there were plenty of practical reasons and solutions. "I know that! I mean that Snape being the only one who could possibly teach him Occlumency is stupid. It would be the work of seconds to hire someone to teach him the basics, and then he can refine it on his own or with help."

Now everyone (barring Luna, as eerily calm as always) stared at her. "But Dumbledore said… who else could teach… security reasons…"

Roisin glared. "Solicitors and healers all practice Client Confidentiality, yes? That means that they need to show a certain amount of proficiency in protecting their mind from unwanted intrusion before they can earn their credentials. Some of the Higher-Up Healers even learn Legilimency, in case a patient is too badly hurt to say what happened, so they can find out and treat it. Contract one of them, get a Magical Oath if you need to, and learn from them."

Luna looked up from where she was scribbling in a notebook, probably working on an article to send to her father. "Do you think they could teach me, as well? I don't want anyone trying to read my mind. Minds are private places, after all."

Most people thought in straight lines, but Luna thought in circles and zigzag patterns. It would be like comparing reading a newspaper article to reading a crossword with obscure answers, repeated cross-outs, and half the clues missing. All things considered, Roisin doubted that it would be possible for anyone to read Luna's mind without getting a head-splitting migraine in the first ten seconds. If not for the fact that anyone trying to read Luna's mind would probably be doing so for nefarious purposes, Roisin might actually pity them for trying.

She considered. She had already planned to try and sit in, but it might not be a bad thing for all of them to learn. "I'll talk to Nana. She found someone who was willing to teach Harry and keep their mouth shut, so I shouldn't think it would be too hard to include us, as well."

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Right, another chapter up! It took longer than usual, but FF.n was acting up and refusing to let me login, which meant that I couldn't post. Hopefully the next chapter will be properly on schedule. It's another short chapter, but I hope you all like it._

_Am I the only one who thinks that it is absurd that Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort are the only ones who know Occlumency? Out of several thousand witches and wizards? We later find out that Slughorn can do it, and he wouldn't turn down teaching Harry! A solicitor would need to know Occlumency to keep Confidentiality. A Healer who deals with the mind would have to know Legilimency to see what was wrong with the patient. Old families 'have their secrets', and I'm betting that several of them don't care how 'lost' a magical art is, if it puts them a step ahead. Bellatrix knows it, and she clearly isn't playing with a full deck. She also teaches Draco, who gets good enough to keep Snape out, despite being a fairly average wizard._

_Solicitors are paid not to ask questions beyond what they Need To Know to argue a case. Someone who has no reason to love Voldemort or the Ministry would love to help Harry as an indirect kick to both organizations, especially if they are getting well paid for it. If most readers get a headache trying to understand Luna on paper, just imagine trying to read her mind in real life. Automatic migraine. _

_Anyway, the next chapter should be up in a week or two, as TAFE is just starting, though it will probably get more time consuming after the first few weeks. Teachers like to get your hopes up like that. Most of my family work as teachers, and that was according to my Aunt, apologies to any other teachers reading this. Apologies also to any Church-goers out there. I'm an agnostic, and last year's Christmas service with my Grandfather (because no-one else would go and my grandmother couldn't leave the Nursing Home) was the first time I attended outside of weddings and funerals._

_Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated, but not mandatory._

_Thanks, Nat._


	77. Teachers and Troubles

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN**

Roisin took the First-Years to breakfast and went over to the Gryffindor Table, where Harry had his head down, resting on his arms. "You know, it feels like Snape just opened my mind further, rather than helped me close it off."

Roisin smiled as she sat down. "In that case, I have good news for you. I wrote to Nana about the lessons, and she just wrote back, saying that she'd fount an Occlumency teacher for you. They said that they'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade Weekend at eleven."

Harry did perk up, but didn't get the chance to say anything before the post arrived. Hermione gazed absently at the front page of the _Daily Prophet _for a moment, and then dropped it with a yelp, causing several people nearby to turn and look at her. Roisin dropped her spoon by accident as she, Harry and Ron jumped. "What?"

Hermione pointed. Ten black-and-white photographs filled the front page, nine men and one woman. Each picture had a caption with the name of the prisoner and why they had been sentenced to Azkaban. '_Antonin Dolohov, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett… Augustus Rookwood, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named…_ _Rudolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix LeStrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom…_

There was a headline, too.

'MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN  
MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'  
FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

_The Ministry of Magic announced last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.  
__Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.  
_"_We find ourselves, most unfortunately in the same position we were in two and a half years ago, when Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think that the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. Unlike Black, however, these ten cannot site an administrative error to be declared innocent on a technicality. We are doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the Magical Community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached._

Oh, HELL. Sirius had been right in the article over the summer, where he had guessed that the Ministry would try to pin any strange happenings on him. Maybe a re-run of those articles would be in order. Making a mental note to send an owl to the Keep with that suggestion, Roisin hurried back over to the Slytherin table, where several students were looking rather pale.

Draco had the _Daily Prophet_ open in front of him, along with a letter that looked like it was from his mother, though the writing was a lot less careful and refined than usual. He looked up as she approached. "The worst part is that there is just enough truth in the article to cast suspicion on Black. There almost certainly was outside help, though my money is on the Dark Lord, and Black was the first person ever to break out of Azkaban."

That was true, and bloody inconvenient. Roisin indicated the parchment, embossed with the Malfoy crest. "Letter from home?"

Draco nodded. "Mother is frantic. Aunt Bellatrix is a fanatic as far as anything concerning the Dark Lord goes, and apparently liked dunking puppies in boiling water, then healing them so she could do it again, as a child. Mother is worried that she'll take it out on Father and me, since Father denounced the Dark Lord. Father is planning some very fast talking about being better able to serve the Dark Lord's interests while free, if Aunt Bellatrix does show up. Mother was even talking about getting in touch with her disowned sister, just in case."

That was quite a big step, as Andromeda Black-Tonks had (according to Harry, who knew it from Sirius) been disowned and blasted off the tapestry for marrying a Muggleborn wizard. If Narcissa Malfoy was going to bend that far, things must really be bad.

* * *

All things considered, those with Death Eater relatives had decided that it was safer to stay in the Common Room over lunch, and Roisin was working on her Charms homework when Warrington practically skipped in. "The Oaf is on Probation!"

'The Oaf' usually meant Hagrid after an especially life-threatening class, (and had been coined after the first lessons with the Blast-Ended Skrewts, when a Third-Year had complained that you needed to be a special kind of brainless to expose thirteen-year-olds who hadn't met anything more dangerous than a Crup to something that burned, bit and stung all at once) unless explicitly stated otherwise. As such, there was a sudden loud cheer as the news sank in. Draco looked thoroughly relieved, and a lot happier than he had since the morning paper had come. "Does that mean that we'll be getting Grubbly-Plank back, do you think?"

Roisin sincerely hoped so, but began piecing together a diplomatic response for when the Trio complained that they seemed to be the only ones disappointed about Hagrid possibly getting sacked if lessons didn't drastically improve.

This kind of stress could not be good for a person, and it certainly wasn't doing Roisin any favours.

On top of weekly Prefect Reports and single-handedly looking after the First-Years, she was also dealing with Umbridge, trying to make sure that Slytherin as a whole didn't get themselves lynched after Umbridge left, keeping track of information that could be passed to the Order, keeping on top of the load of Homework and the upcoming OWL Tests.

The separation from her friends didn't help, and neither did the response from certain Gryffindors when Harry asked why she was so upset. Harry was diplomatic enough to not reply, while Hermione huffed and muttered something under her breath. Ron attempted to be sympathetic, saying that they were only a bunch of Slytherins and she could do better. Roisin appreciated the sentiment, but pointed out that she was also a Slytherin. She hadn't known that it was even possible to shove your foot that far down your throat when Ron patted her shoulder and said that she was a decent person and didn't really count.

Ginny was apparently still smarting over being over-ruled on what to call the DA, and about the Weasley Is Our King song, which, in her defence, Roisin had nothing to do with, even if a number of Slytherins were still showing up at Gryffindor Practices and singing at the top of their voices. Until the youngest Weasley commented, Roisin hadn't even realized that she was part of the conversation. "Well, that's what you get for being friends with the wrong sort, I suppose."

The obvious response was rude, beneath her, politically unwise… ah, screw it! She would just blame it on the stress. "Diary. Five people Petrified. You have no room to talk."

Yes, it was rude, and more than a bit cruel, but Roisin had no intention of taking it back. Roisin had been Petrified for a month (and counted herself lucky; Colin had been petrified for nearly seven months) but had yet to receive an apology, and as far as Roisin knew, Ginny had never been punished for any of it, despite the fact that it had been pure luck that stopped the Petrifications from becoming Fatalities. Personally, Roisin didn't think that not remembering her possession gave Ginny any right to be snippy when Harry was freaking out over possession that he did remember, which was still an occasional semi-normal nightmare for him, and would probably remain so.

Ginny especially had no right to be self-righteous when she had no real connection to her victims, but Harry remembered attacking someone he cared about.

* * *

The next Hogsmeade weekend came quickly, and Roisin walked with Harry to the Three Broomsticks, where they would hold his first proper Occlumency lesson.

Harry, in an uncommon bout of good sense, had planned to go to the first lesson and if it went well, would inform Dumbledore that he had found an alternate teacher as a kind of _fiat accompli_. In her opinion, it was none too soon. Professor Snape favoured the approach of yelling at someone to 'clear your mind' and hitting them with Legilimency. Roisin hadn't been able to find out much about Occlumency, but she was certain that there were better ways than that, especially when you didn't bother to explain _how_ to clear your mind.

As it turned out, there was. Sirius was waiting for them at the Three Broomsticks, along with Fionna's old friend, Patrick Murphey. After a quick round of introductions, and a granted request for the others to join them next time, they got down to business. Roisin was impressed that the first thing Patrick did was ask permission to check what mental defences Harry did have, to get an idea of a starting point. Given that it took all of a few second for him to stop, swearing creatively and demanding to know 'what rank-amateur bastard' had previously tried to teach him, she guessed that it couldn't have been good.

It wasn't. Apparently, Professor Snape's Brute-Force method had left Harry's mental defences battered enough that, as things stood, it would actually be easier for Voldemort to possess him, if he had the inclination. Calming down, Patrick got started.

His instructions for clearing your mind was to form a mental picture of something or somewhere calming, where you didn't think, but simply _were_. Roisin chose a quiet spot near the Keep, where she went when she wanted some time alone. Harry chose flying, where it was just him and the wind on his face and the broomstick beneath him. Roisin hadn't known that her cousin was capable of being eloquent about anything, but that just went to show.

Patrick had them practice going from their normal state of mind to that 'calm place' until they could do it in a second, periodically checking with Occlumency. By the time they had managed that, it was time to return to Hogwarts, and they made plans for an 'unspecified emergency' to get them out of Hogwarts next weekend for a second lesson, which would be on detecting intruders and building defences.

In the absence of proper mental shields (i.e. until Patrick had finished teaching them), it was a good idea to stand in front of a mirror, singing the most catchy and annoying song you knew (the Barney Theme Song or The Song That Never Ends were good ones), and keep that memory easily accessible. It might not stop the attacker, but it would certainly slow them down, and distract them long enough for you to eject them.

They all thanked Patrick, and Sirius stayed behind to settle the bill as they left, carrying two copies of '_The Mind Arts'_ with them. Half way through the village, Harry suddenly stopped. "Wait, I'm supposed to be having lessons with Snape on Monday. How am I going to get out of that?"

To Roisin, that was simple, but she hadn't been the one possessed or subjected to Professor Snape's idea of Occlumency Lessons, so she probably had a more objective view. "Somehow, I doubt that Professor Snape with be that upset if you don't show up. Just make sure that you're in the Gryffindor Common Room where he can't get you."

Harry grinned, and then cursed as the wind picked up and snow started to fall. The problem of avoiding Professor Snape was instantly put aside in favour of getting to Hogwarts before the snowstorm hit.

* * *

The first proper Occlumency lesson had gone well, but it was about the only thing that week which did. Umbridge had formed a group of enforcers that had been termed the 'Inquisitorial Squad', though she was still waiting on confirmation from the Ministry, as someone had been smart enough to point out that from a certain point of view, they could be considered a club, group or society. Roisin countered by dropping a few hints to less-discreet members in the other houses, saying things like how it was a pity how the families of students were pressuring them into supporting Umbridge, and how no House was exempt. Saying something like that to Parvati or Lavender, while faster, would have been too obvious, as if she was deliberately planting another rumour, so they had to move slower.

Rumours also flew about the escaped Death Eaters; that they had been spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were hiding in the Shrieking Shack and planned to invade Hogwarts, that they were planning to use dark magic to bring back Voldemort, and that they were planning to kill Sirius, because he hadn't helped them escape and had fought against Voldemort in the first war, were among the more popular ones.

Roisin had started the one about Sirius herself, knowing that by the time it got back to anyone important, it would have been repeated so many times that no one would be able to pin it on her. Since everyone else had apparently managed to forget that Sirius had been technically disowned from his Dark-leaning family and had broken out of Azkaban to protect Harry, she thought it was time for a reminder.

At least everyone's attention was mainly off Harry, for once. Most of the school had grown up with tales of terror surrounding Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and ten of the 'Inner Circle' on the loose was no joking matter, whether Voldemort had returned or not. Many of the people killed by the newly-escaped Death Eaters had relatives at Hogwarts, and those relatives were now finding themselves the victims of a gruesome sort of reflected glory.

The Death Eaters themselves also had relatives among the students, not all of them in Slytherin, and they were also under a great deal of scrutiny, much to their discomfort. Draco probably had it the worst, being related to the LeStrange three through his mother, and most of the others by marriage within a few generations. It was times like this that being a Pureblood was not necessarily a good thing, as you tended to be related to nearly everyone in one way or another.

Desperate for some kind of silver lining, Roisin thought that at least some people would now think twice before whispering, pointing at, or randomly accusing Harry in the future. For now, the whispering and pointing hadn't completely stopped, but the whispering was curious, rather than hostile, and some of it suggested that people were re-thinking their views of Harry as an attention-seeking liar.

The details of the trials had also been in the _Daily Prophet_, and before being dragged off to Azkaban, the transcript showed that Bellatrix (being fanatical but more or less sane at that point) had shouted that they would wait in Azkaban until the Dark Lord returned. No-one liked to think about anyone breaking out of Azkaban, but if ten high-security convicts did so at the same time, when most of them had gone to prison rather than plead coercion or make a plea bargain, there must have been a reason. In light of lack of a proper explanation from the Ministry of Magic, the escape did fit in with Harry's claims of Voldemort's return.

The tides were turning, but no-one was quite sure where.

* * *

The Slytherins were on their way back to the Common Room after dinner when tensions finally snapped, though the first they heard about it was a loud "_Impedimenta!"_

Roisin had spun around as soon as she heard the first syllable, and managed to dive out of the way, the curse hitting Draco instead. Firing a stinging hex back, Roisin yelled for the First-Years to run and find a professor, before ducking a curse she didn't know.

The attackers turned out to be a group of Fourth-, Sixth- and Seventh-Year students from the other three Houses. Draco managed to reverse the hex, drawing his own wand. "I don't suppose telling you that I never even met my Aunt or Uncle LeStrange would do any good, here?"

Given that the response was a Stunner, Roisin doubted it. Things promptly descended into an all-out brawl.

"_Stupefy!"_ Roisin dodged and returned fire with her own Stunner, casting a shield charm around herself. Draco had just re-enervated Pansy, Millicent had one of the attackers in a headlock, Greg and Vince had flattened three others, and Blaise had just taken down a Seventh-Year. Even so, they were severely outnumbered. Filling her lungs, she bellowed in a fair impression of Professor Snape "_The next person to cast a spell loses fifty points and will be spending a week in detention!"_

Everyone froze, even the Slytherins. It didn't matter is Roisin wasn't a perfect mimic (only slightly above average, in fact), as long as the tone and the measure were correct. Before they could collect themselves, Roisin continued. "I don't know why you attacked us, and I don't care. Back off and don't do it again!"

A voice came from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and Roisin frowned, it sounded female and sort of familiar. "Or what? You can't do anything to us!"

Normally, that would be true, as Professor Dumbledore was notorious for only punishing fights when a Slytherin started it. A perpetrator from any of the other houses tended to be ignored unless it caused enough damage for a parent to be notified. Now, however… Roisin glared in the general direction of the voice, pointing at the others. "Two words: Professor Umbridge. As for me…" she used her wand to trace several glowing runes in the air, then folded her arms and looked smug. A dozen or so bulls appeared in front of her, just solid enough impact, but not enough to cause real damage. Luckily, it did send the attackers running.

Using Millicent's arm as a kind of ladder, Pansy stood up slowly. "Have you ever been to Spain?"

Roisin hadn't, but she had read about the Running of the Bulls, and had really only wanted something to get rid of the other students. "No, and if I did, I'd watch from the safety of an upstairs window. That was just the quickest rune to draw."

She tested her ankle, where she had landed wrong while avoiding a curse. "Drat. OK, who else needs the Hospital Wing?"

There were sounds of agreement from a few others, and they headed off to visit Madam Pomfrey. Leaning on Desdemona and limping slightly as they headed for Madam Pomfrey, Roisin spotted yet another Decree, this one forbidding Professors to discuss anything not explicitly related to the subjects they taught. Resolving to put out a quiet word that she still had the design for the vision rune-spell, and could tweak it to the Staff Room, Roisin sighed. "Do you think Umbridge will ever catch on that those things are counter-productive?"

Desdemona huffed. "If she didn't learn it after banning the _Quibbler_, I doubt that she'll realize it now. Besides, you're assuming that Umbitch has any amount of intelligence beyond sucking up to her superiors."

* * *

The general consensus was that Care of Magical Creatures had dramatically improved, as after the disastrous lesson on Thestrals, Hagrid had not shown the Fifth-Years anything more dangerous than a Crup, and was sticking to the things they would need to learn for their OWLs. This was out of character enough that another rumour cropped up, suggesting that someone was giving him step-by-step instructions on what and how to teach. As the brains of the three people who _didn't_ want to see him dismissed as a teacher, most people suspected Hermione.

They didn't know how long Hagrid could hold out, though, even with help. Umbridge was still inspecting every lesson, throwing him off his game. According to Desdemona, Professor Trelawney was getting the same treatment, but had no-one to help her, and was even more of a paranoid, sherry-scented, eccentric bundle of nerves than usual.

Teachers may have been having trouble, but things were better in the DA, relatively speaking, as the escape of the Death Eaters had everyone working even harder than before, and Neville was improving in leaps and bounds, saying little but working on every spell, counter-curse and jinx they learned.

Luna, Neville and Ginny had joined Roisin and the Trio in learning Occlumency. True to Roisin's prediction, Patrick had cut that lesson short with a migraine after trying to read Luna, after which he left her for the last to test during their meetings. Also as predicted, Professor Snape hadn't said a word when Harry told him that he had found a different teacher, though he and Ron both agreed that he looked a bit disappointed at the loss of the chance to bully Harry even more and have the chance to use his own memories as ammunition.

Roisin didn't say anything, largely because she couldn't really deny it. The year had stripped away a number of comforting illusions, forcing her to confront some hard truths. Among those truths was the fact that, justified or not, Professor Snape did play astronomical favourites, and for all his skill as a Potions Master, he wasn't a very good teacher.

That might or might not have had something to do with the fact that Professor Snape had logically deduced that she had played a role in finding an alternate Occlumency teacher, and her Potions grade had abruptly plummeted, until she was placed just above Neville in grades.

Still, Occlumency was going well, and Harry was learning nearly as fast as Neville was in the DA. He still had the occasional dream or twinge, but only when he was under extreme stress or when Voldemort was feeling very strong emotion, such as the joy when a prominent, 'light-side' Wizengamot member suffered a 'tragic accident' (though how he managed to shatter the centuries-old wards around his house or stab himself in the back before falling _up_ the stairs was anyone's guess), or the towering fury and frustration that coincided with a letter from a very busy Yelena, letting her know that Death Eaters had approached several Durmstrang students and Alumni, who had refused to join, secure in the fact that Voldemort currently didn't have the resources to hunt them down.

* * *

There was a Hogsmeade weekend on Valentine's Day, which established or new couples spent in the fancier cafes like Madam Puddifoots (which most students wouldn't go near outside Valentine's Day) and which Roisin spent hanging around with the other currently-single DA members, laughing and extoling the virtues of being single. It ended when Pansy showed up, having been hexed by Parvati for interrupting her and Harry's date, and thrown out by Madam Puddifoot for causing a disturbance. Apparently, she needed help getting Draco back to Hogwarts and the Hospital Wing, and Millicent and Blaise had already refused, and the Bookends were back at Hogwarts, trying to keep up with their homework.

Rolling her eyes and muttering loudly about idiots, how it served them right, and how she was only helping in order to avoid trouble from Umbridge, Roisin said goodbye and followed them out. The grumbling was mostly for effect, as some non-Slytherin Umbridge supporters were sitting nearby, but honestly, was it that hard to spend one afternoon without getting into some kind of trouble that Roisin had to clean up?

Wasn't it obvious that she already had more than enough on her plate?

* * *

The Vision Rune-spell had made Roisin a small fortune from those who wanted to know what was going on. She had added a few restrictions for where the Vision couldn't go – like the dorms or bathrooms of the opposite sex, though she left the Slytherin Common Room available, as the atmosphere would suggest that they were not constantly at each other's throats, however. Use of said Vision Rune-spells was mostly finding out what was going on in the Staff Room (a very great deal of quiet rebellion from the staff) and observing Gryffindor Quidditch practices, which were still going horribly. While most found it highly entertaining after a stressful day, Angelina tended to end the practices one missed catch or save from hopeless tears.

No-one could blame her. Kirke and Sloper, who had replaced Fred and George as Beaters, were as likely to hit their team-mates as a Bludger, and while Ginny was a passable Seeker, she wasn't quite as good at quick turns or sudden dodges, which could break up her own team's plays if she wasn't careful.

The match against Hufflepuff only proved it, when Gryffindor only managed to lose by ten points (two hundred and forty to two hundred and thirty) thanks to a near-miracle catch from Ginny, who caught the snitch after an agonizing half-hour or so, according to those who had gone to witness what happened when you put Cringe-Worthy Beaters and Keeper up against seven fairly competent players known for teamwork. Roisin hadn't attended, and had stayed in the Slytherin Common Room, snickering her way through another Terry Pratchett novel in between Homework assignments.

* * *

Roisin and Draco were bringing the First-Years back to the Slytherin Common Room after a study session in the library when there was a piercing shriek, and they quickly changed direction, practically flying down to the Entrance Hall, where Professor Trelawney stood. She had her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, and looked nearly as deranged as the wanter posters of Bellatrix LeStrange. Two large trunks lay beside her, and she was staring in terrified horror at someone Roisin couldn't see, but would bet good money was Umbridge. "No! NO! This cannot be happening… it cannot… I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" Yes, that sickly-sweet voice was definitely Umbridge. "Incapable as you are of predicting tomorrow's weather, you must surely realize that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you should be sacked?"

As even those who didn't take Divination, and had the precognitive ability of a fallen log had seen that coming, Umbridge sort of had a point. That Professor Trelawney tended to smell of sherry couldn't have helped. Professor Trelawney, rather than acknowledging the facts, only became more hysterical. "You c-can't! You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here for sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

Looking around, Roisin could spot traces of sympathy in the crowd, even from those who didn't like Professor Trelawney. Umbridge was not so compassionate. "It _was_ your home. Until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing everyone."

Footsteps heralded the approach of Professor McGonagall, making her way through the crowd toward Professor Trelawney, and Roisin judged it safer not to be around for this confrontation. No matter how good the probable entertainment value was, it could be watched just as easily – and far more safely – from the Common Room. The First-Years were probably there already.

At breakfast the next day, Roisin choked on her porridge when Desdemona informed her that Professor Trelawney was staying in the castle, even if she was no longer teaching, and that the new teacher was not, as had been speculated, someone from the Ministry with a vague idea of what they were doing, but a centaur.

Roisin had nothing against centaurs, but she had to wonder what Dumbledore had been thinking. Centaurs saw things differently from Humans, and their ways of seeing the future in the stars and planets was different to the method used by other races. What worked for one did not necessarily work for all, and Roisin doubted that Divination Classes would improve that much, other than the location.

* * *

March passed, as did Roisin's sixteenth birthday, but without the usual celebrations. The summer-yellow dress from her parents was put away until the weather warmed up, though the sunflower necklace from her grandmother brightened up the gloomy days. The four Discworld books based around Tiffany Aching, a gift from Dudley, were much appreciated, though a limited edition Nac Mac Feegle statuette was going a bit far. She sent him a book on how mundane potions ingredients (i.e. not made from parts of various magical creatures or magical plants) interacted with each other, as he was still having trouble with science and biology, and tickets to a professional boxing match for him and a friend.

OWLs were swiftly approaching, and while Hannah Abbott was the first to break down, sobbing about how she wanted to leave Hogwarts now, as she would never pass her OWLs, she certainly wasn't the last.

When Roisin's outburst came, she wasn't sure who was more startled; the First-Years or herself.

She almost never snapped at anyone, much less those somehow in her charge! (Yelling at Mary and Seamus for a prank didn't count) But it was all piling up, too much and too fast. She was trying to keep the majority of her House from getting themselves killed through sheer arrogant stupidity, trying to collect what information she could for the Order, trying to protect and support Harry, trying to complete her Prefect responsibilities, trying to keep up with homework and studying for her OWLs…

Deep breaths and sheer willpower had got her this far, while Winky was busy keeping an eye on Kreature, and it would just have to do again. She drew in a huge lungful of air and slowly let it out again. "I'm sorry, Jia Li. I didn't mean to snap, I'm just a bit stressed, with the workload and upcoming exams and everyone hating Slytherin more than usual, and… and…"

Roisin was vaguely aware that a note of hysteria had begun to creep into her voice. She _knew_ that there was no reason to become emotional, _knew_ that she was being irrational… and still couldn't stop herself from bursting into tears. Not just tears, but loud, uncontrollable sobs that shook her entire body and made her ferverently grateful that most of the House was elsewhere.

It was bad enough that several very alarmed First-Years were there to witness! She was supposed to be setting a good example for them, and she couldn't even accomplish that! The thought brought on a fresh wave of crying.

With the current school climate, Roisin had thought it wise to teach her First-Years the disillusionment charm, and they had plenty of opportunity to practice, as well as having long mastered the levitation charm. Figuring that everyone needs looking after now and then, even if they were a Prefect and Mentor, the small group promptly Disillusioned their 'Prefect-Mummy', cast a simultaneous levitation charm, and carted her off to Madam Pomfrey.

If she had been a bystander, rather than a patient, Roisin would have been highly amused at the Hospital Matron's baffled expression. It soon changed to one of resignation, however, as Roisin was apparently the eighth student to be admitted due to a nervous breakdown or stress. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey couldn't do much aside from keeping Roisin overnight for observation, with a long, hot bath, an early night, and giving out a few doses of the Draught of Peace.

Trying to look contrite as Winky fussed over her, muttering about stubborn mistresses who didn't know when to take a break, Roisin absently wondered how many would end up under Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies for trying to brew their own Draught of Peace and accidentally poisoning themselves.

On the bright side, Roisin finally achieved her first full Animagus Transformation in the first week of April, frightening the life out of Draco when she ran to the boy's Dorms (only falling flat a few times on the way) to show off. Draco had also apparently mastered it, as he took five seconds to turn into a ferret and disappear under a bed.

* * *

In the DA, they had started the Patronus Charm, and most were doing very well, or had already achieved a corporal form. Even those who hadn't had successfully managed to produce a fair amount of silver mist.

Cedric had learned the Patronus Charm for the Triwizard Tournament, as a just-in-case spell. Harry had convinced Professor Lupin to teach him during Third Year, thanks to the Dementors stationed around Hogwarts. Roisin had cast it in desperate necessity the same year, under attack from said Dementors. Hermione had been unable to stand the idea of a spell that more than one of her year-mates could do that she couldn't, and had studied the Charm until she got it right.

That made four people who knew how to cast a Patronus Charm, which implied that the Charm wasn't nearly as hard as Professor Lupin had made out. At least, that was what Roisin told her First-Years. Believing you could do something was the first step toward achieving it, while believing that you couldn't do something practically guaranteed it.

Richard drew several laughs from the Muggle-Born or –Raised when his Patronus turned out to be a bat, while Lisbeth spent three lessons struggling with a cloud of silver vapour, which resolved itself into a cloud of hornets near the end of the fourth lesson.

Angelina's Patronus was a Lynx, while Dennis managed to produce a very ferocious-looking rabbit, and Luna cast a very odd-looking creature that (after much research in the Zoology section of the library) turned out to be a platypus. Cedric and Susan had very similar-looking patronuses – patroni? – which also drew a few catcalls. Not for very long, though, because Cedric's ratel and Susan's wolverine were a lot scarier than they looked, and didn't appreciate being patted.

Cho produced a graceful swan, and Hermione an otter, and Ron was working toward what looked like a Terrier.

There were an uneven amount of students, so Roisin was taking her turn sitting out as they practiced in pairs. It was her turn again to do a demonstration next meeting, so she used the time to carve a few extra flash-bang rune clusters, and to work on another that she had planned in case they had to come up with multiple rune-spells for the OWL exam.

She had just finished the last rune, and was wondering if she should give it a test run while they were in the Room of Requirement, when Dobby suddenly appeared, looking distressed, and with the news that 'she' knew and was coming. 'She' almost certainly meant Umbridge, as the other teachers would probably just look the other way, and that meant that they had to act quickly.

Roisin swore creatively, drawing surprised looks and a few speculative glances, especially from her First-Years. She summoned the DA list and group photo from where they were pinned, casting notice-me-not charms on both. "Does anyone know an anti-Summoning Charm? Dobby, do we have a chance of getting out of here before they catch us?"

Cedric cast the anti-Summoning Charm as Dobby shook his head miserably. Roisin wasn't the only one to swear, even as she tried to think of an excuse. One of the rules of Slytherin was that if you got caught in a misdeed, you denied everything and had a ready explanation. Ideas thought up on the spot were weaker than pre-prepared ones, and this was particularly absurd, and anyone with any kind of common sense would see right through it. On the other hand, common sense was notoriously lacking in the Wizarding World.

One of her latest Rune Cluster experiments involved trying to find a way to play music without lugging around a Wireless, and with more variety. She had created it over the holidays, when she had a few other songs and recorded music to work with. She pulled the cluster out of her bag and tapped it with her wand, even as they heard the sound of running feet. A lively folk tune burst out, and she grabbed Seamus Finnegan, yanking him into a dance. "Looking like we're doing something other than practicing spells is better than standing around looking guilty! Either watch closely or join in!"

Some were a bit quicker on the uptake than others, but at least Seamus caught on, and the steps became a lot smoother as he swung her around. Cedric bowed to Mary, and Mary's twin wasted no time pulling Sienna to join. A few others followed their example, and the rest gathered off to the side to watch just as the door burst open.

Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad charged in, looking triumphant, only to skid to a halt when they saw everyone either dancing or clapping along to _Tamelyn the Bard_. It was not, technically, a dance tune, but this was an emergency.

"What is going on here?"

Cheeks flushed from the rapid pace, Roisin looked over as Seamus wrapped an arm around her waist in a swing. "We're testing a practical assignment for Ancient Runes, Professor. A couple of the younger years were thinking of taking the subject later on, too. Is there a problem with that?"

It was a good thing that most of the upper years were taking Ancient Runes (the preferred switch from Care of Magical Creatures as soon as possible after Hagrid started teaching), and that the Ancient Runes study groups had been approved. Also, Professor Babbling couldn't stand Umbridge after the toad-woman called her subject 'Archaic and largely useless', and would back them up.

Umbridge deducted points anyway, for being out so close to curfew and 'shameless frivolity', but wasn't quite powerful enough yet to do anything else without proof. She tried to confiscate the rune cluster, but Roisin simply destroyed the stone, having several more and not wanting Umbridge to try to find a way to turn music into something 'seditious'.

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Virtual cookies to anyone who can guess where I got the idea for the Patronuses from._

_A New chapter is up, and I'm posting it now as I have a very busy two weeks ahead. As always, suggestions for improvement are very welcome, and I'll try to get the next chapter of '__The Paths Diverge__' up soon._

_Thanks, Nat_


	78. Magical Mayhem

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters, and no profit is being made from the publication of this fic._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN**

The DA Inner Core was sitting in the courtyard, pretending to study. Roisin flicked a page in her History book, not really looking at the words. "What I want to know is: How the heck did Umbridge find out? Desdemona can keep a secret when she needs to, and I know it wasn't any of the First-Years. Hermione, I know you did something to the parchment we all signed, to guard against betrayal, so how do we recognize the culprit?"

Hermione smiled grimly. "It will be very obvious. I charmed the parchment so that the person responsible will have 'SNEAK' across their face in great big pimples, and glamour won't hide it. Make-up might, for a while, but you'd have to wear more concealer than a clown, and good luck keeping that a secret."

Roisin nodded. "So, we keep an eye out for someone taking great care to hide their face. Tell Neville to fake an accident and check if Madam Pomfrey has anyone under long-term care. It will be believable coming from him."

The Gryffindors nodded, and Luna wore the carefully blank look that suggested someone should be sleeping with one eye open. Roisin stood up, "I'd better get going. We're working on the next phrase of the plan."

The drop was deliberate, and everyone caught it. Ginny looked suspicious, but Harry was the first one to ask. "What plan?"

Roisin sighed. "The one we formed in the beginning of the year to keep Slytherin from being lynched by one side or the other." She sat back down again, "Look, the other Houses don't like Slytherin, right? If we sided against Umbridge, she'd destroy us, and we wouldn't have any teachers or fellow students to back us up. On the other hand, no Defense teacher has lasted more than a year for over three decades. If we did side with Umbridge, the rest of the school would be after our blood as soon as the door closed behind her. We've been very carefully splitting forces to keep a balance, and it's been a very delicate game. You had to have noticed how Draco's been so over the top lately."

Ron growled. "Hard to miss, what with that new song."

Which was a tell in itself, really. "If we cared that much, we would have been singing '_Weasley Is Our King'_ since your brothers joined the team, not make it up just for you. Also, most of us have family in the Ministry, and Umbridge is Fudge's right-hand. We don't have that many options, here."

She left them to think on it, as it wouldn't do to push too hard, too fast or too soon.

* * *

For a Gryffindor, Harry had developed a very impressive Glare. Then again, given the cause and circumstances, the Creevey brothers probably could have given Professor Snape a run for his money right now.

Nearby, Cho was looking conflicted. Marietta, conspicuously absent, had been a close and loyal friend, and had been under a lot of pressure from her mother, but her abject betrayal of the DA had put all of them in danger, Cho included. Even so, she seemed inclined to come down on her friend's side. Roisin didn't care, as long as she didn't have to get involved in the fiasco when Cho tried to say that.

The Hufflepuffs were livid at the violation of trust and loyalty, but thought that the censure of Marietta by her peers, as well as suffering the implication and effect of Hermione's Hex until – or if – it either wore of or was reversed, should be punishment enough.

The few Slytherins were inclined to openly agree with Hufflepuff, but come up with some kind of nasty but fitting revenge to be carried out quietly where no one else could see and tell on them.

Whatever the other Ravenclaws thought, they were keeping it to themselves, but were very clearly upset at the fact that they could no longer learn or practice Defense Against the Dark Arts beyond reading in Umbridge's class.

The Gryffindors, naturally, were beyond furious, and the other Houses were keeping a very safe distance from all of them.

Luckily, the Hufflepuffs carried the day, as far as Marietta went, but the DA would be reduced to passing notes in class and practicing in their own Dorms and Common Rooms. No one was particularly happy about it, but there was only so much they could do, and the Room of Requirement was no longer safe.

* * *

Fred and George were just shy of running a Black Market on their joke products. The Prefects largely disapproved, for the most part because of what Umbridge would probably dish out if the students were caught, but otherwise there was very little that they could do.

Umbridge was being particularly vindictive lately. After she had failed to catch the DA out in any actual wrongdoing, she had been prowling around with Filch, jumping on anyone who even looked like they might be doing something. The First-Years as a whole had been murmuring to each other about if they could pull off some minor acts of rebellion, as well. There wasn't much that Roisin could do about the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws or Gryffindors, so she simply informed the Slytherin First-Years that if they stood even the slightest chance of getting caught, they were not permitted to do it.

That stood a better chance of them listening than if she had outright forbade them to do anything, but Roisin still had a very bad feeling.

* * *

As it regrettably turned out, she was right.

Roisin had been enjoying a brief moment of relaxation, lying on her bed with '_Tales of Beedle the Bard'_ and a hot chocolate, marveling at how extra-helpful the House-Elves became when you mentioned being fed up with Hermione Granger (newly titled 'The Dark Seamstress', with the disdainful emphasis that most students used when talking about Umbridge) and SPEW, whether it was true or not. Finishing her drink, Roisin started to calculate how long she could delay before returning to her schoolwork, when she became aware of whispering and shuffling outside the door.

Sighing and hoping that it wasn't another prank by a less-discerning student, Roisin marked her page, got up and opened the door, revealing all six of her First-Years. All of them looked rather pale, far more than they had any reason to be. Lucinda and Sienna looked as though they had been crying. "What's wrong?"

Jacob was the one to answer. "We've just come back from detention with Professor Umbridge… you said we could come to you with any problems, and –"

He broke off with a sniffle, and Lucinda burst into tears again. Why couldn't Draco be the one to deal with this at least occasionally? This called for stronger measures than just a listening ear. Rounding them up, Roisin led them to the kitchens, where she sought out Winky. "Hot Chocolate and something sweet all around, please." She sat the younger students down as a tray of _appelflappen_ and _oliebollen_ (The Durmstrang visitors had ordered boatloads of it last December, and the Hogwarts students had enjoyed it so much that no one had told the House Elves that it was a cultural New-Year-only thing) came zooming their way. "Now: explain this slowly, clearly and one at a time."

Jia Li took a deep breath. "Well, you know how the Weasley Twins made those Skiving Snack boxes?"

Roisin nodded, the hint of a smile lurking on her lips. Even a Prefect had to admit that the Weasley Twins were good, and the Snack boxes sold like wildfire. Barely a class went by where Umbridge wasn't forced to let at least five students leave for the hospital wing. She had spent weeks trying to put them all in detention before she was forced to admit defeat. "I had heard of that, yes. But detentions aren't supposed to send students to their Prefects, pale and near tears. I'm to assume that something about these detentions has seriously overstepped her bounds?"

Winky arrived then, bearing hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and shavings. All of the First-Years brightened slightly, and Jia Li continued. "Yes. She said that we would be writing lines, so we didn't think that it was too bad, but then she didn't give us any ink, saying we wouldn't need it, just these awful black quills, and told us to start writing. So we did, and, well…"

A horrible suspicion began to grow in Roisin's mind as the little girl trailed off, but she tried to remain calm and reassuring. "Well, what?"

The First-Years looked at each other, and then simultaneously raised their hands, palm inward. All six hands bore the phrase '_I will not miss class_' in red, angry looking scratches. Roisin stared, then let out a stream of explicit Gaelic swear words that would have had her grandmother washing her mouth out, had she overheard.

Roisin had never seen the effects of a Blood Quill, but the fake Moody had spent a few weeks on restricted or banned 'dark' items last year, so she had read about them. Blood Quills were banned outside of Legal matters like Wills, Inheritance issues, and Contracts, and then only if the document required a blood signature. Using one on a minor, without written and verbal consent of a parent, guardian, or legal representative, carried a term in Azkaban. Not to mention the long-term implications. If the marks were not treated, or if they scarred too deeply, the First-Years could have been dying, but would have felt compelled to attend class. "She made you write lines with a Blood Quill?"

The First-Years nodded. Roisin entertained a brief fantasy of hog-tying Umbridge and dumping her in the Forbidden Forest. "Well, you were certainly right to come to me about it. Finish up, and I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey; she can heal you and document what happened as proof. I also want you to write to your families, and I'll make sure they get posted next Hogsmeade Visit, so Umbitch can't intercept them."

Lisbeth, who had remained quiet thus far, now nodded enthusiastically. "That's more than fine with me. What about you, though? Umbridge was making subtext about severely punishing anyone who tried to help us."

Roisin narrowed her eyes in a way that usually promised Hellfire and Damnation. Lots of it. "Good for her. But Gryffindors aren't the only ones who take risks to do the right thing, and you are my responsibility. Are there any other students who can confirm these events?"

Richard nodded. "Yes, the First-Year Hufflepuffs were with us too. We tried to talk to Prefect Malfoy, but he just told us that he was busy, and the best way to avoid problems was to keep our heads down and shut up."

Oh he had, had he? Roisin knew that Draco had a very long and difficult Astronomy Essay that he had been putting off, and another punishment one for not handing in the previous week's homework, but that was no excuse. "I'll curse him for that later. Right now, it's off to the Hospital Wing."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey was furious when they told her what had happened, and all too happy to document evidence and provide witness testimony, if needed.

The injuries were dealt with in fairly short order, and they were provided with some Essence of Murtlap in case it happened again. It was too late to talk to the Hufflepuffs now, so Roisin sent a Patronus Messenger to Cedric, asking him to grab Susan and Ernie, and to meet them outside the Great Hall before breakfast, before whisking her First-Years back to the Slytherin Common Room.

Making sure that they were all safely tucked into bed, she remembered that her counterpart was on patrol tonight, and started planning what to do with him at the first opportunity. It was probably an honest mistake, so she couldn't do anything too horrific, but that was no excuse for brushing the First-Years off when they clearly needed help.

At breakfast the next day, Roisin explained the events of the previous night to the three Hufflepuffs, who proved at least as angry as she was. Susan rounded up the Hufflepuff First-Years and hurried them off to Madam Pomfrey, promising that they could eat there, while Roisin filled the other two in on what she planned to do about it. Agreeing that letters home was the best that they could do for now, the Hufflepuffs surprised Roisin by offering to help her with Malfoy. Apparently, Hufflepuffs stuck together, and were dangerous when defensive.

* * *

Minister Cornelius Fudge was all kinds of an idiot.

Umbridge had been very firmly ejected from Hogwarts when her use of a Blood Quill became known (rumour had several of the other teachers having been forced to confiscate Professor McGonagall's wand to stop her from turning her completely into a toad and giving her to Snape for potions ingredients) and some people, especially the parents of Hogwarts students, had been looking at the Ministry of Magic and what it had been saying with very suspicious eyes.

Fudge was an idiot, but he was also a Politician, and could see how the wind was blowing. Unfortunately, he was also stupid enough not to give up. Less than a week after Umbridge had… departed, the evidence of the Blood Quill had somehow disappeared, and every paper that could be bribed was filled with articles about how the Ministry in general and Fudge and Umbridge in particular had been the victims of malicious slander and defamation.

Of course, since most of this so-called 'slander' was coming from Hogwarts and Hogwarts parents, they were insisting that Dumbledore must be involved, if not directly responsible, and everyone was waiting with bated breath for the other shoe to drop.

At the first sight of Aurors accompanying Fudge to the castle and making a bee-line to Dumbledore's office, catching Harry along the way, everyone not in class made a mad race for their Common Rooms, where at least one student in every Dorm had a Vision Cluster. The Slytherins were lucky enough to be in Transfiguration at the time, so when Professor McGonagall not-quite-ran out the door, summoned by her rank of Deputy Headmistress, everyone dropped what they were doing and clustered around Roisin, who was already sketching the needed symbols in the air.

The Confrontation was one for the ages. Minister Fudge looked like a man possessed as he shouted accusations of treason and attempting to bring down the Ministry. The look of Glee on Umbridge's face, and the Righteous Fury that filled Professor McGonagall's was not something that anyone would soon forget, and no one could really disagree with Auror Shacklebolt's assessment that Dumbledore had style, when he grabbed onto his Phoenix and disappeared in a burst of flame.

* * *

The next morning, there was a new notice plastering the school. Before taking a closer look, Roisin almost wondered if someone had decided to replace the stone walls with oddly-printed wallpaper.

_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Degree Number Twenty-eight_

_Signed: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic._

That was bad enough. What was worse was Draco catching Roisin and quietly informing her that Umbridge was indulging in a bit of hubris, and had formed a group of enforcers named the 'Inquisitorial Squad'. They even had shiny silver badges that a traumatized Montague informed them were supposed to have been Umbridge's favourite shade of pink, if she hadn't seen the male percentage ready to walk straight back out of the door again, and reluctantly changed it to silver.

When Roisin and Amanda finally stopped laughing, Ophelia took a more serious tone in pointing out that they would have to go over the top to prove themselves, as a Slytherin had been the one to report Umbridge and get her removed in the first place. This was true, but all Draco and the others would really have to do was be especially unreasonable toward those Umbridge especially disliked, particularly Harry and Hermione while Ron and a Hufflepuff were around. Hufflepuff was a bit like a bee-hive, in that what one knew, the rest soon found out, and Ron could be counted upon to complain about 'Evil Slytherins' to anyone who stayed still long enough to listen.

* * *

Roisin wouldn't have thought it, given the general reaction of the school, but the Inquisitorial Squad wasn't even the worst part of Umbridge being made Headmistress. It was inconvenient, certainly, but the worst part was that the school pranksters, led by the Weasley Twins, no longer felt obligated to restrain themselves from respect for Dumbledore. Quite the contrary, they seemed to be spurring each other onto greater and more chaotic heights.

If Fred and George only applied as much energy to their set schoolwork as they did to causing mayhem, Roisin reflected as she joined several other prefects running toward the screams, the overall test scores of Hogwarts would be dragged up significantly.

The cause of the screaming was not hard to find. Someone (no prizes for guessing) had set off a massive amount of enchanted fireworks, and since Dr. Filibuster had never produced anything this spectacular (or classically juvenile, in the case of the Swear-Word Sparklers) Roisin was inclined to suspect the Fred and George Weasley.

No one seemed able to avoid looking impressed, no matter how hard they attempted to hide it, and few bothered to try. Dragons made entirely of green and gold sparks soared majestically through the corridors, heralded by loud, firey bangs and blasts. Shockingly pink Catherine Wheels flew through the air like lethal, five-foot-wide flying saucers. Rockets trailing brilliant silver starts were ricocheting off the walls, and firecrackers were exploding everywhere, giving the impression that one was standing in a small minefield.

Better yet, instead of burning themselves out, the pyrotechnical masterpieces only seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum. As they watched, Filch and Umbridge came limping and waddling in as fast as they could, causing most of the onlookers to melt away before they could be summoned to help dispel the fireworks. Unwilling to depart just yet, Roisin retreated behind a suit of armor as Harry appeared, probably having followed Umbridge to see what the commotion was about. Like everyone else so far, he started to grin at the sight of the fireworks, and at Filch and Umbridge, who were standing dumbstruck, half way up the stairs.

As they watched, a Catherine Wheel decided that it needed more space to itself and shot toward the adults with an almost sinister '_wheeee'_. Both of them shrieked and ducked, letting it escape out of a window. Several dragons and an ominously-smoking purple bat took the opportunity to escape to the second floor.

Deciding that this was one mess she wasn't going to risk getting involved in, no matter how entertaining it was to watch, Roisin bolted just as Umbridge tried to Stun a rocket, which, rather than freezing, exploded with enough force to leave a large scorch-mark in a nearby portrait.

* * *

Not only did Roisin have no intention of getting involved in the firework clean-up, but the Professors didn't seem too concerned about helping to stop the chaos, either. Even Professor McGonagall, the strictest teacher in the school, had supposedly allowed a dragon to interrupt her class with the Gryffindors, only sending a student to find Umbridge and make her deal with it.

Likewise, there was no doubt that Professor Flitwick would have taken all of a few minutes to dispel the three sparklers and a dragon that invaded his classroom in the last lesson of the day, but he seemed more inclined to sit back and let Umbridge deal with it. He also made no attempt to reprimand the students, as the Fifth-Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws smirked their way through the assigned Charm work.

Potions had been dismissed early, as Professor Snape had tried to Vanish a Catherine Wheel, only to have it multiply into ten more, just as large, Catherine Wheels. Casting a shield charm long enough to keep them away from the potions, which they had only just started, Professor Snape had ordered everyone out, and told Blaise to get Umbridge.

In the Slytherin Common Room, in between putting their bags away and going to dinner, Roisin was approached by pretty much everyone, all wanting her to pass on firework orders to the Weasley Twins, who were rapidly becoming heroes in more than just Gryffindor Tower. As she had been planning on ordering a few of the dragons herself, Roisin couldn't complain, and only informed them that she didn't want to see any in the Slytherin Common Room, and if any fireworks got loose in the Dorms, it was the problem of whoever had set it off.

* * *

As well as studying for OWLs, the Fifth-Years had been receiving pamphlets about future careers, from training security trolls, to becoming a Healer, to working in the Ministry, and everything in between.

So far, Roisin's after-school plans involved getting Mastery in Ancient Runes, studying for the Muggle O- and A-Levels so she had some qualifications in the Muggle World, and possibly a part-time job. Unfortunately, she had the feeling that her Head of House would want a more concrete plan when they met to discuss her future.

Roisin firmly maintained that fifteen/sixteen was a bit young to be deciding what to do with the rest of your life (people did change their minds, after all), but that didn't make her exempt from Career Counseling.

She also firmly maintained that Hogwarts should have a qualified councilor or at least a representative from the various fields, to deal with this. If they had people from the Ministry come to give the OWL and NEWT tests, then they could bring someone in for this! How were you supposed to concentrate on what you wanted to do with your future when you had Professor Snape glaring at you like he wanted you to stop wasting his time, anyway?

"Miss O'Conner, what do you plan to do when you leave Hogwarts?"

Her Head of House's tone clearly said that he didn't care what she had planned, and that he wanted to be here even less than she did. Roisin pulled herself together and tried to get it over with as quickly as possible. "I was thinking of becoming a teacher. Professor Binns is useless, and Muggle Studies is over a century behind the times. Hogwarts has a reputation as one of the greatest schools in Europe, and as students, we have a duty to help maintain that reputation."

Flattery did not help, nor did the dig at Binns, but it didn't hurt to try. "I see. Well, you will need at least an EE in all subjects you take, and an O in whatever field you plan to teach. You will also need to complete a WOMBAT in teaching after you leave Hogwarts. Is that all?"

Roisin had been hoping for a short interview, but that was even more abrupt than she had expected. She blinked in surprise but nodded.

Professor Snape gestured to the door. "Get out, and tell Mr Malfoy that it is his turn."

That might be a problem, as the formation of the Inquisitorial Squad had also given Roisin a prime opportunity to get back at Draco for not helping the First-Years against Umbridge.

The best thing about the Muggle World was that making mention of it left most Purebloods completely clueless. A letter home, asking about ideas for pranks based of Muggle comedy, had returned with a script book from a controversial and hugely popular group by the name of Monty Python. Roisin hadn't made it more than a few pages before she started grinning wickedly, causing a nearby First-Year Ravenclaw to burst into terrified tears.

Draco might have been far from amused, but the rest of the school found the end result to be hilarious. Draco found that every time he came within a meter of any First-Year, he burst into Silly-Walks and the Lumberjack Song, with Vince, Greg and Blaise providing the chorus. The quartet had been feeling especially vindictive, and Draco wasn't the only one causing trouble for the rest of the school, so when any member of the Inquisitorial Squat threatened people with Umbridge or her minions, regardless of if they meant it or not, they would find themselves re-enacting the '_Spanish Inquisition_' skit.

Since just about everyone had motivation to curse Malfoy, not to mention the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, these days, and there was nothing that pointed to any particular House, let alone individual, no punishment could be issued. The Professors didn't seem to be putting that much effort into finding those responsible, either, apart from the suggestion that the complexity of the spell-work suggested someone from the upper years.

Draco knew perfectly well who was behind it, and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad could venture an educated guess, but none of them were going to rat her out. Draco knew exactly why she was angry with him, and agreed that he probably deserved whatever she could dish out, while the others thought that it was a small price for the non-Umbridge-Supporters to start integrating themselves with the rest of the School again.

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* * *

_A/N: Right, I know it's short, but this was the best stopping point. To the people who are going to complain that the Dursleys wouldn't watch Monty Python: I agree, but at their height, even the people who didn't watch Monty Python at least knew who they were, if only because they were writing letters to complain about them._

_Anyway, the next chapter is up, and I promise that the next one will be longer. As always, Constructive Criticism is appreciated, and flames will be used… for something to do with fire._

_Thanks, Nat_


	79. The End Draws Near

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the Associated Characters. Anything you don't recognize is probably mine._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

_**CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT**_

While it was nice to see Harry actually thinking for a change, seeing him pensive (or brooding, pick your poison) was never a good thing. "'What's wrong' would be a long list, considering how the year is going, so let's go with 'What happened this time'?"

When he didn't react, Roisin's concern grew. "Seriously, Harry, what happened?"

Harry gave a resigned sigh, accepting that she wasn't going to leave until she had answers. "You know how Dumbledore wanted me to do Occlumency Lessons with Snape?"

Roisin nodded. She still had no idea what Dumbledore thought he was playing at with the idea. Learning Occlumency required a bond of trust, not a bond of mutual loathing and scorn. "Yes. How is that going, by the way? Client confidentiality means that Patrick can't tell me."

Harry scowled. "Well, it seems that someone found out I wasn't going, because Snape dragged me down again. Anyway, I can throw people out, but he must not have been expecting it, because I pushed too hard and saw a memory. I'll spare you the gory details, but my dad was acting like a worse bully than Dudley, and my mum called him an arrogant bullying toe-rag and said that she'd rather date the Giant Squid. I mean, I know you told me that Snape and Aunt Petunia didn't get along, but it looked like he was actually friends with Mum."

Roisin blinked. Well, she had always wondered where she and Dudley got their dramatic streak from. She would have to remember that line for future use. Mary would love it. However, it begged the question of why would Professor Snape have that at the front of his mind, anyway? "So now you're struggling between accounts that Uncle James was a good and brave person, and the memory that you witnessed?"

Harry nodded wordlessly, looking miserable. Roisin tried to think of the best argument to use. "You know I'm trying to make amends with my family, and how we're actually making headway, even if talking about actual magic doesn't come up much. Well, Mum is trying to get around that by telling me stories about the magical people she encountered, and asking me about the friends I've made at Hogwarts."

Harry looked startled, but his expression quickly changed back to wondering what this had to do with anything. Roisin held up a hand. "Let me finish. Mum was telling me a few things about Aunt Lily, and she mentioned that when your parents got together, it was obvious that they loved each other, but Aunt Lily refused to date him until he 'deflated his ego'. You have pictures of your parents wedding, and you can see how happy they were. I don't think that your mum would have dated and married your dad, much less had you, if there wasn't something in him worth loving."

Harry looked a bit less depressed. "But what about the bullying? Dad was being downright rotten in the memory."

Roisin shrugged, smiling faintly. "Don't tell me you've never tried to impress a girl by doing something that seemed like a good idea, then looked back on it and cringed."

As a matter of fact, Harry had done that just last week, when Padma had mentioned that she didn't know why her twin enjoyed such flashy displays. Roisin had been fortunate enough to be visiting the Gryffindor Common Room when Harry had tried to conjure some fireworks, which promptly blew up, leaving him covered in soot. Harry cringed and Roisin smirked, "If you're really worried, then there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Ask Sirius and Remus to meet you there, and you can hear the other side of things."

* * *

The Fireworks were not the last example of Fred and George's entropic skill, nor the most impressive, as was discovered less than a week later.

Even walking to dinner was becoming hazardous nowadays, and the scene was not unlike the dismissal of Professor Trelawney, in that most of the school population was crowded in the Entrance Hall, and in that it would take a lot more than the teachers to move them before the show was over. Even the Inquisitorial Squad was looking pleased at the sudden appearance of a mangrove in an upper corridor, Roisin noticed, as she tried to get rid of the stink-sap covering Desdemona and herself. Even Peeves seemed impressed, as he was simply watching from near the ceiling, rather than making matters worse by throwing things at people.

Meanwhile, Fred and George were standing in the middle of the floor with the unmistakable look of two people who have just been cornered. Umbridge was looking triumphant, which was never a good thing. "So, you think it's amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

Roisin thought it was amusing, even though the prank had resulted in being covered in stink-sap, the smell of which probably wouldn't fade for days, so it was a fair guess that the Weasley Twins did too. Fred (well, probably Fred, who was usually the spokes-twin) didn't look even slightly intimidated. "Pretty amusing, yeah."

On the stairs leading to the first floor, Filch was shoving his way through the crowd of students. "I've got the form, Headmistress! I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting… oh, let me do it now…"

Wait, what? Permission for whipping the students? If Roisin had anything to say about it, Umbridge wasn't going to be the only one leaving at the end of the year! Perhaps it was time for another Slytherin Prefect meeting.

Umbridge seemed more inclined toward agreeing with Filch, however. "Very good, Argus. You two," this was directed at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrong doers at my school…"

The twins exchanged almost lazy glances, totally unconcerned at the threat. "You know what? I don't think we are."

The speaker turned toward his twin. Roisin mentally debated who would be the best person to hide behind or use as a shield. "George, I think that we've outgrown full-time education."

George's answering grin was one to inspire nightmares of impending chaos. "Yeah, I've been feeling that way, myself."

"Time to test our talents in the real world."

"Definitely."

Before Umbridge could say a word, they both raised their wands. Roisin instinctively ducked, but needn't have bothered, as they aimed toward the stairs. "_Accio Brooms!_"

There was a loud crash in the distance before two broomsticks came flying through the air from the general direction of Umbridge's office, one still trailing a chain and iron peg. Most of the students on the stairs ducked in time, though Cormac McLaggen caught a solid clip on the head. Roisin wasn't worried, being of the opinion that it couldn't make him any more of an idiot than he already was.

The twins were mounted in a second. "We won't be seeing you."

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch"

Fred looked over the crowd, all of whom were silently entranced by the scene. "If anyone fancies buying a portable swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to ninty-three Diagon Alley – Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, our new premises!"

Well, that was Roisin's new secret destination for next Hogsmeade weekend. Draco would swear to her whereabouts if she brought him back something, and Umbridge wouldn't question or punish him. George finished the impromptu promotion. "Special discount to Hogwarts students who swear that they'll use our products to finish off this old bat!"

That was the last straw for Umbridge. "STOP THEM!"

The Inquisitorial Squad reluctantly closed in, though any idiot could see that they weren't very enthusiastic about it, and were moving as slowly as possible. It was too late, either way. The twins shot into the air, and Fred looked across the Hall to Peeves, who had been watching in fascination. "Give her hell from us, Peeves."

When Peeves swept off his hat and bowed, an unprecedented move, Roisin cringed. Better get Amanda to have a word with the Bloody Baron. He wouldn't be able to stop Peeves altogether (and if it got rid of Umbridge, she didn't want him to), but the blood-stained ghost could at least keep Peeves away from the Slytherins.

* * *

With the school's top troublemakers gone, there was a virtual stampede to fill the void left by their absence, and gain the position of Mischief-makers-in-Chief. Even those who were not usually pranksters were joining in.

The Seventh-Years of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, plus Roisin, Desdemona and Ophelia, had all accepted money and orders from their Housemates, dressed in day robes, and snuck off to Diagon Alley, returning laden with WWW products. Dobby and Winky were quietly enlisted to carry any packages to the respective students, in case Umbridge tried to interfere with the mail.

An added bonus was when Umbridge tried to question them, and the Inquisitorial Squad claimed that they had at least one enforcer trailing each group, and other than visits to the Shrieking Shack, a belated Birthday party in a Private Parlour in the Three Broomsticks, and a few strolls in the surrounding countryside, not one of them had left Hogsmeade or done anything against the rules.

The Inquisitorial Squad couldn't cover for everyone, especially for those relying mainly on Skivving Snack boxes, but they did what they could, to the increasing confusion of the student body, many of whom were starting to wonder if there might be something behind the escalated behaviour of the Slytherins this year.

When a smaller version of the portable swamp appeared in Umbridge's classroom, filled with conjured toads, and a small cluster of Heiroglyphs appeared on the blackboard, turning everything she wrote into a sketch of a frog or toad (actually, the frog was the Egyptian symbol for ten thousand, and would only last that many attempts, which should equal to a few months of the spell driving Umbridge insane), Susan, Hermione and Roisin were supposedly in the Library, and a slower Ravenclaw who had been about to say otherwise was discreetly Silenced before he could even open his mouth.

When Padma was the main suspect for making Filch's cleaning supplies spontaneously combust or vanish at random, Greg pulled off a credible show of looking embarrassed while admitting that he had made the Ravenclaw twin tutor him, and they had been working on an essay at the time. Roisin thought that it probably worked because even Umbridge didn't think Greg was smart enough to think up or pull off that kind of lie on the spot.

Surreptitiously helping the other students also cut back on the retaliatory attacks on the Inquisitorial Squad, though it didn't stop them completely. When Warrington put the entire Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch Teams in detention under Professor Snape, each house scheduled for the night before their final Quidditch Match of the year, he was admitted to the Hospital Wing with a skin condition that make him look as though he was covered in soggy cornflakes.

When Pansy overheard a few Ravenclaws making unkind remarks about Slytherin as a whole, since most of the Inquisitorial Squad came from that House, she decided to remind them about the member from Ravenclaw (Marietta had joined, though how willing she was had been the subject of debate, after the DA was disbanded and she was ostracized by pretty much everyone who didn't care about the details beyond that she sold her friends to Umbridge) by setting them to scrub the Great Hall after dinner, with Marietta supervising. Roisin had escorted her to the Hospital Wing as they left dinner, hoping that Madam Pomfrey could do something about the antlers now sprouting from her head.

No one was showing up to Defence Against the Dark Arts, some out of principle and some using Skiving Snack-boxes to swoon, vomit, bleed or break out in hives the second they walked in the door, forcing her to dismiss them for the day. Since Umbridge didn't dare to use a Blood Quill on the four successive classes she put in detention, knowing that the accusation wouldn't be so easily dismissed a second time (Harry, Lee Jordan and the First-Years were one thing, and could be accused of making it up. Over forty students claiming the same thing was something else entirely), she was forced to give up the attempt.

Filch was prowling the corridors, desperate to catch the culprits, but there were so many that he had no sooner cornered one prankster than another prank was set off somewhere else, letting the student escape while he limped off to deal with the next piece of chaos.

It probably didn't help that not one of the other Professors seemed interested in helping to stem the chaos. In fact, if the rumour about Professor McGonagall telling Peeves that the chandelier unscrewed the other way, or Professor Flitwick teaching his NEWT students the multiple duplication charm that the Weasley Twins had used on their Catherine Wheels were true, they seemed to be actively hindering Umbride and Filch's attempts to restore order.

But none of the pranksters could compare to Peeves, the Master of Mayhem.

After a chat with the Bloody Baron, the Slytherins were not targeted specifically, but there was nothing to stop him from the rude words and graphic images graffitiied across the walls, appalling songs echoing from suits of armor where he was hiding (Roisin denied being the one to teach him the Hedgehog Song, no matter what Hermione said) or the multitude of stink bombs, ink pellets and water balloons that plagued the corridors. The older students had taken to walking around with bubble-head charms to avoid the smell, and those who could cast a shield charm did so before they even poked their head out of a classroom or the portal to their House Common Area.

The cunning mischief-maker that lurked inside Roisin (and all Slytherins, really, no matter how much they pretended otherwise) thoroughly approved.

* * *

Umbridge had passed yet another Decree, allowing the student's mail to be opened, read, filtered and even confiscated. Roisin had gotten around this by writing in Irish Gaelic, with the excuse that her family insisted on it. The O'Conner Clan actually had suggested that she write to them in Irish Gaelic as a way of practice, so she had a valid excuse even if Umbridge went around questioning people. Su Li and one of Roisin's First-Years had taken to writing or sending Whisperers in Manderin, which, being a phonetically based language, was even harder to translate, with or without a translation spell.

Honestly, the Ministry needed to send in another stooge to do Umbridge's thinking for her, if they wanted her to be any kind of successful.

* * *

In Defense on Monday, Professor Umbridge had the no-so-brilliant idea of mixing up the houses in an attempt to stop the muttered complaining. While Roisin approved of getting Lavender away from Parvati (they seemed to have a friendship much like Roisin and Desdemona, except Desdemona actually let Roisin do her work in class, rather that gossip endlessly), she had a feeling that putting the Blonde (in both meanings of the word) Gryffindor next to Millicent Bulstrode was just asking for bloodshed.

At least the Toad-woman had the sense not to let Harry and Draco near each other.

Still, it was a good opportunity to see what was going on outside of the House of Snakes. "So, how are things with regards to Marietta? I hear Cho tried to defend her."

Shooting a discreet look at Umbridge to make sure that she was occupied elsewhere, Parvati welcomed the chance to fume about it. "Yes! I just can't figure out why!"

Parvati's voice had started to rise. Roisin hastily shushed her, giving Umbridge another quick look. She was about to reply when she caught Desdemona's frantic gestures from nearby. The Slytherin code for '_Trouble!_', it could only mean one person. Roisin glanced up to see Umbridge headed their way. "Oh, shite, Umbitch Alert_._ We'll finish this after class."

True to her word, Roisin sent her Slytherin friends to lunch without her. Parvati did the same, lingering behind so that they could talk privately. Walking slowly down the halls, Parvati looked at Roisin and raised an eyebrow. "Umbitch? Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought Slytherin was her favorite house."

This was the Golden Opportunity that all of Slytherin had been trying to find! Parvati had grown up a lot since becoming interested in Harry, but she had a twin in Ravenclaw, who, despite being the brainy House, were as big of Gossips as everyone else. Also, Parvati hadn't _completely _given up gossip, and still put up with Lavender Brown, the foundations of the Hogwarts Rumor Mill. If Roisin could convince Parvati of what was really going on, hopefully it would be repeated in Lavender's hearing range, and would get around in less than a day. She had already laid the foundations, everyone was wondering why the Inquisitorial Squad seemed to be working against Umbridge, and now it was time to start building.

Parvati was still waiting for an answer, her expression curious. Roisin made a derisive sound. "Despite appearances, Draco doesn't rule Slytherin, regardless of what he might think. We aren't her favorite House as such; we just have most of the children of prominent Ministry Officials and Purebloods. And some of them _have_ to toady up to her or risk Hell To Pay. Even if we are her favored House, she certainly isn't doing us any favors. The favoritism is worse than Professor Snape and it only makes us even more ostracized than we already are! I'll admit that some of the Inquisitorial Quad jumped at the chance to get revenge for past deeds, but Millie is only there to mitigate the damage."

Roisin pulled a rueful face. "Not to say that holds true for everyone, though. I'm the grand-daughter of Fionna O'Conner, but my father is a squib, Harry Potter is my cousin, and Aunt Lily was a Muggle-born. That elitist bitch therefore hates me, and insisted on letting everyone know about my heritage. Blaise dumped me for not being as 'pure' as he thought, and the Fifth-Year is literally split between those who stood by me, regardless and those who suddenly lump me among Gryffindors and Muggleborns, which could have gone badly if they didn't know that being Muggleborn doesn't make me any less capable of hexing them."

Parvati considered Roisin's words for several moments. The Break-Up was widely known, but the cause behind it less so. "That sucks. Not to mention that if this winds up backfiring on Umbitch, word is going to get out on how she favored Slytherin and degraded the other Houses, how her lackeys, no offence, were mostly Slytherins and so on, and no one is going to bother getting your side of the story before they vilify you."

Roisin nodded. Parvati caught on fast. "Pretty much. And almost none of us can limit the damage with the rest of the school because they immediately assume that we are spying on them for Umbitch. I'm somewhat known for being tolerant of other houses and the sacrilege of actually getting along with some of you, but now almost everyone outside of the DA and people I know personally are acting like I have the Plague. It's not unexpected, but it's still upsetting."

Parvati laid a sympathetic hand on her arm. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. By the way, about the Inquisitorial Squad, what did you mean by 'revenge for past deeds'?"

Roisin sighed. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned that, but it was too late to stop now. "Professor Snape is biased toward Slytherin, but have you noticed that he's the only one? How many times have the Weasley Twins pulled a humiliating or not-so-friendly prank on us, and gotten away without so much as a scolding? How many times has a Slytherin tried to retaliate, and been punished? Do you remember the Leaving Feast in First Year? I'll admit that what the Golden Trio did was worth reward, but announcing it in the Great Hall, right when we were celebrating our victory, served no other purpose than to humiliate us. It may seem petty, but we have long memories, and a few of us are taking the chance to get away with getting back at you."

Parvati was looking slightly shamefaced. Roisin wasn't surprised. The Indian girl was nice, and to have things pointed out to her in such a blunt way was likely to make her feel somewhat guilty. Most people just saw it as reacting to Slytherin bias, just as theSlytherins saw it as reacting to the bias from everyone else. "Please, I'm not asking for a pity party. I'm just saying how it is on our end."

Parvati considered her words. "If you don't mind, I'll mention the bit about the Inquisitorial Squad to Harry. If he believes it, then it might not be as bad when Umbitch gets hers."

Roisin gave Parvati an approving look. "I think I'm a bad influence. That was almost Slytherin of you. I mentioned it to them before, but I don't know how far it penetrated. Thanks."

She changed the subject. "So, how did your Career Session go?"

Parvati frowned. "Well, Professor McGonagall was nice enough, but wasn't very approving of the fact that I'm taking Divination, which isn't a requirement or a help in most careers, and my Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy marks aren't that good."

Divination wasn't a help in most careers, because they focused on the here and now. Divination had been very important in healing in the past, and sometimes for the non-field Department of Magical Law Enforcement, however. A seer had fortold the bubonic plague, better known as the Black Death, and the Great Fire of London, allowing St Mungo's to prepare for the casualties of both, and renew the Fire Protection Charms to make them one of a very few buildings that didn't suffer damage.

Astronomy had been difficult lately, with the cloudy weather, and Roisin joined Parvati in just having trouble in memorizing which stars belonged to which constallations. As for Care of Magical Creatures… well, to put it diplomatically, students learned more about evasive manuvering, how long you could maintain a flat sprint, and escape techniques than they did about the Creatures themselves. An entire year of learning about Flobberworms, followed by half a year of Blast-Ended Skrewts, had not helped in that area.

Maybe Professor Snape's version hadn't been so bad, after all. "You're lucky. We got Snape glaring at us like we were wasting his time while we said our first choice, were told what subjects we would need, and were told to get out and send in the next victim."

Parvati managed to look sympathetic. "Well, at least it was short. Professor McGonagall spent an entire ten minutes hinting that I should try to adopt Padma's standards and study habits. She actually glared when I said that looking like my twin and sharing several other traits didn't mean we had to be the same in everything else, as well."

Ouch. At least Roisin had never had that problem, and if the teachers at Little Whinging Primary School had compared her marks to Dudley's in the report cards, Roisin had never heard about it. At least the Professors at Smeltings had never met her or seen her grades, so that would be unlikely to crop up now. "I have an idea of what you mean, but why wouldn't you try? I mean, OWLs are important."

Parvati sighed. "It's fairly simple, if you think about it. You know my sister is in Ravenclaw, right? I'm never going to get the marks that she does, and I've accepted that, so while I'm smart enough, I'm not going to waste my time competing against her and being someone I'm not. But I do have other talents, so I'll focus on them. Padma wants to be a researcher or spell-crafter, and the Ravenclaw Common Room is one big library, so she focuses on that and things like History of Magic and the Theoretical parts of subjects."

That made sense, so Roisin just waited while Parvati continued her explanation. "I have first-hand access to the Hogwarts media network, and I know almost everything that goes on minutes after it happens, unless people are going to a real effort to keep things secret. I have a gift with beauty and fashion, to the extent that people come to me for advice. I can tell flowers, magical and mundane, apart in less than a minute just by the smell. If I get good enough marks in Charms, Potions, Transfiguration and Herbology, I can go into the fashion and design industry once I leave school. If that means that people think I'm a 'brainless airhead' for seven years, then so be it."

Roisin blinked slowly. That made for a very solid argument, and was a far more mature outlook than she had been expecting. It sounded like Parvati had wanted to explain this for a while. "I believed in Harry when he first said that that Voldemort – yes, I can say it, I've been practicing – is back, and that means we have to be ready." Parvati gave Roisin another look, one which said that this conversation was never to be repeated, and then continued. "Despite what she may think, Ginny Weasley isn't the only person to have grown up on stories about Harry Potter. But I realized something at the Ball last year. Harry has a very large burden to bear, and he is going to need a strong witch to support him along the way. Hermione may be strong, but she is convinced that she is always right, and constantly second-guesses people."

Roisin nodded in agreement. She liked Hermione, most of the time, but her know-it-all attitude tended to rub people the wrong way, even if Hermione usually _did_ know it all. Luckily, Parvati didn't seem to need her to say anything, so she could stick with '_hmmm'_ sounds of agreement as the other girl continued. "As much as I admire Ginny's spirit, she doesn't really know Harry as anything more than the Legendary Harry Potter, who once saved her life. Back last year I wasn't mature enough to handle a relationship with Harry, and right now, Harry is in no position to handle a relationship with anyone in the school, because they can't, or won't, understand the pressure he is under. I'm using this time to grow up and learn to take life seriously, because I think that we will all have to mature a lot before this is over, and we'll need people to lead us while we do." She paused for a moment. "I like Harry, and though neither Harry nor I were ready last year, we will be, eventually, and I don't want to be just a pretty face."

Padma may have had the book-smarts of Ravenclaw, but it was increasingly obvious that Parvati was no slouch in the street-smarts and practicality department. "Not to mention that you are fulfilling your potential to become the kind of girl that my cousin needs and could eventually fall in love with."

Parvati blushed, but didn't deny it. "We're at the Great Hall, anyway, so we'd better split up."

Roisin nodded. "Agreed. Umbitch won't like seeing Gryffindors and Slytherins consorting, and there's no need to make things worse."

* * *

As Slytherin had narrowly lost to Hufflepuff, when a Hufflepuff Chaser suddenly blocked Draco, forcing him to dodge and giving the Hufflepuff Seeker a chance to catch the snitch after what had been a very close race, Roisin was not planning to attend the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch Final, though she did compliment Luna on her hat, which made her look as though she had a live eagle perched on her head.

Roisin was also pleasantly surprised to see Padma, Cho and Terry hand out detention to people who tried to tease the quirky blonde about her choice of headwear. The Slytherins had shut up after a particularly nasty glare from Roisin. It looked like the DA had taught some students more than just defense spells over the year.

Letting the rest of the school file out, Roisin went back to her books and revision in the Common Room, along with Greg, Vince, and several other less Quidditch-mad students, mostly in Sixth and Seventh-Year, who were more concerned with passing their exams than which of the two not-Slytherin Houses won the Quidditch Cup.

Pulling out her Arithmancy text and notes, she ignored the winces and sympathetic comments from her year-mates, barely noticing anything that wasn't mathematical equations.

* * *

_Everyone_ noticed, however, when the House members who had gone to the Match, mainly to practice their singing, began to trickle back in, all looking shocked, thunderous, or a mix of the two.

Hastily rescuing her Herbology notes as Draco started to dramatically throw himself down on the couch beside her, Roisin raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with all of you?"

Draco actually managed to ignore her glare as she carefully smoothed out the notes. "Weasley's been an absolutely useless Keeper all year, and he chooses _now_ to actually develop a minor degree of competency! I had a whole host on insults stored up for when Gryffindor, the house of brave fighters, broke their winning streak against Ravenclaw, the house of dust-covered scholars, and he actually managed to block or save everything except the first few goals! It's absurd! A travesty! A sham!"

Well, well, well, it looked like miracles really did happen. Roisin rolled her eyes and made a mental not to avoid Ron until the glow of his success wore off. "So resort to insults on how it's the first time all year he's managed to block anything and focus on other things."

Draco ignored her mostly-calm response in favour of reciting synonyms for 'unbelievable' and 'horrible occurrence'. Finally, Theo took a turn at either calming him down or shutting him up. "You're looking at the glass half full."

"No I'm not! It's half empty, not half full!"

"What's the difference?"

"Half full is an optimist, half empty is a pessimist."

Having tuned out Draco's rant in favour of her Potions revision, Roisin looked up from studying, ready to throw a hex if they didn't shut up and let her concentrate, but Blaise got there first. "And while you were arguing, I finished the drink, signed: the Opportunist."

All right, that was a bit amusing. From her seat nearby, Amanda joined in, "It's neither half full nor half empty; it can just hold twice as much as it does now, signed: the Pacifist."

Susan had joined Roisin for Potions study, and her lips quirked in a smile. "When I find who stole the other half of my drink, I'm going to disembowel them with a fork, signed: the Activist."

Dimitri smirked. "I have a new glass, and it's got three-fifths of its contents, signed: the Instigatist

Ok, that was enough, this was getting silly. "By the way, that glass was filled with poison, signed, the Sadist, and I might do just that if you don't shut up and let me get back to passing my OWLs!"

Normally, that would have received a bad reaction, but since everyone was thinking the same thing, they let it pass.

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* * *

_A/N: Right, the next chapter is up, and we've only got a few more to go. I've kept you on tenterhooks about the ending of Order of the Phoenix long enough, I suppose, so that will be next chapter or possibly the one after. You can complain about me being the embodiment of evil in a review or private message._

_The '__Pessimist, Optimist, Pacifist, Opportunist, etc joke__' conversation is the result of a night at the pub with my Medieval Society friends and arguing over who is buying the next round, and if my excuse of 'I'm driving, so I'll buy a jug of Soda' got me out of buying a jug of beer._

_It did, since it gave the other designated drivers an excuse to drink under the BAC limit without having to order non-alcoholic drinks at the bar themselves._

_Messsage to everyone of legal drinking age (and some of you who aren't): __**Don't Drink And Drive! Make Sure That The Designated Driver Knows That They Are The Designated Driver, Or Catch A Cab And Come Back For The Car In The Morning!**_

_I'm not trying to nag, but my other Harry Potter story, __'The Paths Diverge__' has fourteen chapters (about a fifth of number of chapters in '__The Dursley Witch'__) and well over half as many reviews. I'm not begging for reviews, just trying to figure out why, since this story has more, and longer, chapters, and has been published for several years, rather than the few months that my other fic has._

_Thanks, Nat._


	80. OWLS

_Disclaimer: Yikes, eighty chapters already... Ahem, I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

_**CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE**_

If Roisin hadn't been under so much stress, it probably wouldn't have happened.

Unfortunately, OWL revision, and the exams being due in less than a fortnight, meant that everyone was under stress, tempers were running high, tolerance for interruptions was low, and everyone was sniping at each other. Bets had been on a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be involved in the first tension-fueled fight (with 3:1 odds on a Ravenclaw being part of the second fight, 4:1 on it being over a book), but no one had expected the participants to be Roisin and Hermione.

It had started with a fight over the last copy of an advanced Arithmancy textbook, and escalated into a full on fight after Madam Pince kicked them out of the library for causing a disturbance.

Now they were throwing hexes of increasing strength and ferocity, while the growing crowd fidgeted and looked nervously at each other, knowing that they should stop the fight, but having no intention of being the first one to get between the two very capable witches.

Roisin cast a Patronus Charm, since being charged by a giant, snarling wolf is enough to put anyone off. "You've got copies of everything outside of the restricted section in your trunk anyway! I need the book more than you do!"

Hermione dodged, and retaliated with a Dancing Hex. "I lent my copy to Anthony, and I need to revise, as well. You were doing your Arithmancy revision two days ago!"

The hex barely missed, and Roisin managed to clip Hermione with a Stinging Hex. "I was studying Third Year material then, and we're obviously going to be tested on more than that! But fine! I'll get a better book from someone else."

Stress had clearly made Hermione paranoid. "You never give up that easily! What do you know that I don't?"

Actually, Roisin had planned on waiting for Hermione to drop her guard, then to grab the book and run. Something was clearly wrong for her to be so transparent. She shouldn't have said the next words, but her mouth didn't seem to be consulting with her brain. Or possibly her brain was too tired to hold her mouth in check. "Besides how to find Arithmancy classrooms and beating you by a mile in Arithmancy predictions? I bet those'll be on the exam, and you'd be in trouble then!"

"Take that back!"

The onlookers completely ignored House Barriers (Draco and Harry actually exchanged looks of sympathetic understanding before they realized who they were commiserating with, and switched to glaring), staring in confusion as one of the most impressive magical duels they had seen in a long time descended into two schoolgirls pulling each other's hair.

Two overpowered clothes-straightening charms, common among Seamstresses doing tailored fittings, designed to tug areas of cloth into place without wrinkling the rest of the outfit, yanked the two girls apart. It didn't last long, but the spell and the surprise held them long enough for Lavender and Parvati to petrify them both and hand them over to their Housemates, the crowd dispersing just in time to avoid Filch and Umbridge, who had managed to overhear the commotion.

* * *

The warm weather finally returned in June, just as everyone was really getting down to their OWL revision, and was therefore too busy to enjoy it.

The teachers were no longer setting homework, which was a relief, since even Winky couldn't have made sure Roisin managed to sleep or eat solid food if that had been the case. Instead, they were frantically revising everything that might possibly come up in the OWL exams.

The purposeful, almost feverish atmosphere drove everything else out of the student's minds, including Roisin's resolve to find out why Professor Snape had suddenly taken such a renewed interest in teaching Harry _anything_, never mind the extra effort of Occlumency, and the half-formed plans of what to do about Filch, who was still roaming the Halls with his whip.

No one else had reported it because they were either too busy causing trouble, or knew that his track record of catching the mischief makers (nil, going into negative numbers) meant that they would be fine. Besides, the other teachers seemed to finally be doing their jobs for once, and stepping in if Filch looked like he was about to grab any student, no matter what the reason. With any luck, that meant that the issue could go on the obscenely short list of things that were Officially Not Roisin's Problem.

It was extremely telling that Hermione had even laid off SPEW, much to the relief of the House Elves, who had once more taken up the duties of making sure that the Slytherin students ate and slept, even if that meant using their own brand of House Elf magic on them. Roisin still felt that Winky threatening to tell her parents, who would then 'be worrying about Miss Roisin, ma'am, when they shouldn't be, and they will order Winky to fuss," was unbelievably low.

Because her parents would worry, and be concerned in their letters, and they would order Winky to take care of Roisin, which could be broadly interpreted any way the little elf thought it needed to be. Perhaps getting House Elves involved in plots had not been the best idea, as they were now getting very good at manipulating their young charges.

The other Houses were faring little better, and Roisin was considering letting her Year-Mates know about House Elf Support, if only because it would seriously put Hermione on the spot. But Hermione was not the only one acting oddly. According to Parvati, who heard it from Padma, Terry Boot had developed a habit of waking up every hour, yelling random facts from whatever he had been studying loud enough to wake the entire House.

Ernie Macmillan had taken to questioning other people about their revision habits. Roisin was studying every spare moment, and had developed the tendency to restrict her meals to things that could be eaten with one hand, while she held a textbook or quill to make notes in the other hand (Stew, salad, vegetables, fruit, porridge and toast were becoming very popular among the Fifth- and Seventh-Years). Even so, Roisin wasn't getting eight or nine hours of revision per day (which might explain the bags under Ernie's eyes, which were in danger of developing their own fashion line), and when Ernie started quizzing her, she informed him that if he didn't shut up and leave her alone, he wouldn't be studying so much either, as it was hard to revise while unconscious under Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies.

Draco was panicking in yet another way, trying to make himself feel more confident by trying to make others enter a state of terrified panic. "Of course, it's not only what you know, it's who you know. Now Father's been friends with the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years – old Griselda Marchbanks – we've had her round for dinner and everything…"

Given that they were outside the Potions Classroom at the time, with Professor Snape due at any moment, and that she frankly didn't have the energy, Roisin managed not to hex him, though several others seemed close.

Meanwhile, a flourishing Black-market had sprung up, particularly in aids and enhancers for concentration, mental agility and higher retention rates. It was especially popular among those who had been foolish enough to put off their revision until the last minute, which was a surprisingly large number.

It was their loss in more ways than one, as they were prime targets for those wanting to make a quick Galleon, since everyone who had done enough revision in Charms and Potions could tell you in a second that none of the so-called 'genuine and guaranteed products' stood even the smallest chance of working.

Who'd be stupid enough to mistake dried doxy droppings for powdered dragon claw, anyway?

* * *

The day before the OWLs were due to start was insane, for lack of a better word.

Millicent had become fed up with quizzing Roisin, when the smaller girl kept grabbing the Ancient Runes book to check for herself, and Roisin was fairly sure that she had a bruise on her hip from where Millicent had thrown the textbook at her.

Draco and Blaise were practicing the Locomotor Charm by playing a sort of air-born bowls, trying to knock each other's cushion out of the air, much to the annoyance of the rest of the Common Room.

Pansy was lying on the couch, eyes closed as she recited the ingredients and instructions for a Memory Potion, while Theo checked against a Potions text. A group of hapless Second-Years seated at the next table over were quietly complaining about how much harder the exams were from last year, earning them a baleful glare from Roisin. "Don't worry; it's only going to get worse for you."

At least the First-Years knew better, and with the tutoring that Roisin and Draco had provided, were fairly confident about passing their exams.

If Roisin had to reassure them on top of reassuring herself, she probably would have screamed.

* * *

The four House Tables had been removed, and replaced with a multitude of one-person tables in neat rows; all facing the Staff end of the hall, where Professor McGonagall stood in her most forbidding pose.

The nervous whispering stopped almost instantly. Professor McGonagall was very good at that. When everyone was seated and silent, she flipped over an enormous hour-glass. "You may begin."

Roisin turned over her paper, skimming over the questions. It didn't look too bad, with basic Charms theory from all five years so far, and an essay on Cheering Charms. Flipping back to the front page, Roisin picked up her quill, reminding herself that she had been studying this for the past week, and there was nothing (well, very little) to worry about, as long as she didn't panic. _A) Give the incantation and B) describe the wand movements required to make objects fly._

A Charms lesson from First Year floated through her mind in Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice with an underlay of Hermione's bossy tones. _"Swish and flick…" "You're saying it wrong! It's win-__gar__-dium Levi-__o__-sa! Honestly!"_

Suppressing a smile, Roisin started to write.

* * *

The House Tables reappeared again for lunch, and the Slytherins hoped that the rest of the school would be too busy to notice the few House Elves stationed near clumps of Fifth- and Seventh-Years, looking sternly at the students with folded arms until they had all eaten at least a sandwich.

Roisin was sure that Winky had something to do with it.

After lunch, the OWL students were called into a chamber off the Great Hall, waiting to be called for their practical examination. Time seemed to inch by as first Millicent, then Vince, then Greg were called in, and emerged looking pale, followed by Draco and Desdemona.

Pansy was looking on the verge of a panic attack when Theo and Roisin walked in, and Blaise was having trouble maintaining his usual disinterested expression, knowing that he would be one of the last to be called.

It wasn't nearly as bad as she had expected, as she made an egg do cartwheels, Levitated a series of objects, and was told to Colour Change Charm a toad. Seeing Umbridge nearby, Roisin gave in to the unwise urge, and turned the toad Umbridge's favourite shade of hideous pink.

She would have given the toad a fuzzy jacket as well, but she might have been marked down for it, even if Madam Marchbanks did look amused, obviously catching the jab.

Finally, they were all set loose for dinner, though Greg tried to cut a slice off a book at one point, so busy reading another text that he failed to realize that it wasn't a steak he was cutting until Pansy shrieked and grabbed her notes away from him.

After that, it was straight back to revising in the hopes of passing Transfiguration the next morning.

* * *

The Transfiguration exam again consisted of a theory overview, especially with Switching Spells, and some practical spells. Roisin was relieved that she managed to Vanish her goanna, and tried very hard not to laugh as Millicent described how Hannah Abbot had completely lost her head and turned her lizard into a flock of flamingos, which promptly got loose and stalled the exam for ten minutes while they were rounded up and removed.

Herbology involved some very loud swearing (and ten points from Slytherin) when a particularly vicious Fanged Geranium took a chunk out of Greg, and Roisin was sure that her work wasn't nearly as good as it should have been, but she probably passed.

* * *

Defense went a lot better, as was the general consensus from anyone who had been in the DA, and therefore knew enough to perform the spells, counter-jinxes and everything else. The theory wasn't bad, either, thanks to Professor Lupin's lesson on banishing Boggarts (no one would be forgetting that soon, even if it had been two years ago), and the fake Professor Moody's lessons last year. The tricky part was at the end, when the students were asked to perform the most advanced defensive spell they knew.

Well, stabbing the examiner with a dirk was probably a bad idea, no matter how stressful the exams were, and a physical weapon didn't really count as a spell. Rune clusters were also a different branch of magic and aside from that…

Roisin hesitated, and Professor Marchbanks commented in a low voice. "I must say, I've been very impressed with some of you. Several students seem to be able to cast a Patronus charm, some of them even with a solid form. Funnily, all of them claim to have learned it through self-study."

Roisin smiled. Perfect. "Well, Madam Umbridge wasn't that interested in teaching us anything practical. There were a lot of extra study groups this year. _Expecto Patronum."_

A huge wolf burst from her wand, glowing silver, and bounded about the room, causing Draco to let out a very loud curse of surprise, accidentally dropping his Shield Charm and earning both a reproving look from Professor Tofty and a large bruise as one of the objects that had been throwing themselves at him got through.

* * *

It was one of the first charitable thoughts that Roisin had had about him in months, but Roisin was profoundly thankful for the charmed hair-clasp that Blaise had given her for Yule in Fourth-Year.

In a Potions OWL exam, the tiniest slip could be disastrous, and the current heat made her hair shed and frizz like crazy. The clasp was certainly better than attempting to use most of a bottle of sleek-ezy, as Pansy and Desdemona had that morning. Roisin and Millicent had evacuated before the struggle over what was left of the container came to hexes.

The Potion they had to make was hideously complex, as they were given the name of the potion, and no two people got the same, and then had to write out the steps and ingredients, before they even got started on brewing.

More than one person was pale and whimpering by the time it was over, but the absence of Professor Snape had several others brimming with confidence. Neville and Harry certainly looked very pleased with themselves when they all filed out of the classroom.

* * *

Care of Magical Creatures was a lot less hazardous than previous years, as Hagrid was not in charge of setting the exam, but it was still difficult, as many of the topics had not been covered, thanks to Hagrid's dismissal of anything that ranked lower than '**XXXX'** on the Magical Creatures Classification scale.

At least they had spent a month or so with Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had been around long enough to give them a basic overview, and he hadn't shown them anything more deadly than a Crup since he had been placed on Probation.

Instead, they had to choose a diet for a sick unicorn from a selection of foods, Identify a Knarl (a hedgehog-like creature that went berserk when offered milk, convinced that it was poison), demonstrate how to correctly handle a bowtruckle, and feed and clean a Fire Crab without needing more than a mild burn salve afterward.

* * *

Roisin walked out of her Ancient Rune practical exam, feeling particularly smug. The OWL exam had been fairly similar to last year. They had to come up with four rune-spells that they had not submitted for a previous exam, the details, practical uses and expected result of which they would have written up in the Theory exam, along with the test that basically went over everything else they had covered before now, including several rune translations.

Roisin had been working on Rune-Spells for the past two years, and was prepared. After the Third Task last year, Roisin had ironed out the Vision Spell that she and Hermione had created, re-doing it totally in Hieroglyphics. She also had the Translation Cluster, the Indexing Cluster she had made for Dudley, and the Music Cluster she had used in the last of the DA meetings.

It might have been considered sucking up to the Examiners, but Roisin had deliberately left the last section of the Music Cluster blank, asking Madam Marchbanks for her favourite tune. The Valse des Fleurs was not easy to carve in runes, but the Examiners had been very impressed.

The crowning jewel was when she had started to leave the room, and overheard Madam Marchbanks telling one of the others that she had been " very impressed by Miss Granger, and they did come up with similar ideas, but this shows far more imagination."

Hermione was not going to like that.

* * *

Hermione did not like that, and, according to Seamus O'Conner, had spent a good hour growling to herself about how a cluster helping you find a specific book in a library was much better than a cluster that acted like a glorified, less appealing music box, and how she had helped come up with the original Vision cluster.

Apparently, no one had felt like asking for her reasoning on the translation cluster, Hermione was especially snappy as she frantically studied for the Arithmancy exam the next morning, and the other students preferred having their limbs attached, thank you very much.

* * *

The Astronomy Theory wasn't bad, though naming Jupiter's many moons and separating them into the Primary and Secondary classifications was a bit difficult, and she had struggled with naming several Southern Hemisphere constellations before she remembered that Australians really _did_ name things something as unimaginative as 'the Southern Cross', the 'Big Dipper' and so on, without bothering to put the names in Latin, as most of the rest of the world did.

Draco was especially vocal about the issue when Millicent mentioned it while they went outside for a picnic and study lunch, having skipped that question entirely, but ironically, he was of the opinion that the rest of the world might have been better adopting that practice, since at least the Australians called it what it was.

Desdemona, who had breezed through the exam, told him that he was being dramatic and unreasonable, since that would mean calling the Andromeda Constellation 'The Stellar Nursery Named After That Chick Who Got Chained To A Rock Because Her Mum Couldn't Keep Her Mouth Shut'.

Lavender Brown, so busy going over her Divination book that she hadn't noticed that she was following Millicent Bulstrode as an unconscious barrier and guide, giggled. Blaise rolled his eyes and hit Desdemona with a Silencing Charm.

* * *

Finding the Arithmancy Classroom was not, in fact, part of the OWL, but having to solve a code and equation to even open the exam booklet was. If a silence rule hadn't been in force (with Professor McGonagall's glare backing it up), Roisin was willing to bet that there would have been a lot of frustrated swearing before most of the students figured it out.

To Roisin's considerable glee, Arithmancy Predictions were on the exam, as were a number of very complex sums.

After that came two separate essays, one on how Arithmancy could be applied to everyday life (Roisin based hers on the importance of getting things done on compatible days of the week or month) and the other on a historical instance where Arithmancy had been instrumental.

When King Arthur had been taken to Avalon after his final battle, his half-sister, Morgaine Le Fey (who was not remotely as bad as the later legends portrayed her), had used Arithmancy to determine who and how many would accompany and watch over him, and to cast the enchantment. Three, for the sacred triumvirates. One, herself, to cast and focus the enchantment. A total of four, for stability, prediction, and 'getting things done'.

A debate on the matter over Christmas (Dudley's History class had been covering myth vs. fact of English Legends) had left Roisin with a very thorough knowledge, and it also took up three chapters in one of the supplementary History book that Roisin had purchased upon realizing that the Ministry was likely to quiz them on more than just Goblin Rebellions, and they certainly wouldn't be learning anything useful from Binns.

* * *

The Astronomy Practical started quietly, but didn't stay that way.

Winky had threatened to cast a sleeping spell on Roisin's entire dorm, as some elves looking after small children did, if they didn't take at least a small nap between dinner and the exam. The Fifth-Year girls managed to argue her down to a nap immediately after dinner, and to be woken up at ten o'clock, so they would have an hour wake up over revising star charts.

At eleven o'clock, they reached the top of the Astronomy tower to find a perfect night for stargazing. The sky was cloudless and still, the grounds bathed in silvery moonlight. There was a slight chill in the air, but not enough to be really distracting, as they set up their telescopes.

Astronomy made it easy to figure out who had Muggle relatives (and had begged for a more advanced telescope at some point over the years). Roisin's parents had been no exception to their extravagance, and had sent her what had to be a University Masters-Level telescope during the Easter Holidays. Roisin had spent two days doing nothing but setting it up and taking it down again before she could do so without referring to the instruction manual, but it had paid off.

Hermione, Justin and Dean had similar telescopes, as did Hannah, Terry and Seamus. Telescopes were checked for magical enhancements before they were allowed into the tower, but since the Muggle World had to find ways to operate without magic, there was nothing in those enhancements to sense, and the Ministry had never thought Muggle advancements significant enough to forbid them in the first place.

Professor Marchbanks handed out blank star-charts, and they got to work. The squares of golden light that were castle windows reflected on the ground were distracting, but slowly flickered out as the exam progressed and those students lucky enough not to be taking it went to bed and sleep.

Professor Marchbanks and Tofty prowled among them, watching as they entered the precise positions of stars and planets, named constellations, and were silent except for the scratching of quills and the occasional creak as someone adjusted a telescope.

The moon suggested that it was somewhere around 12:30 when the castle door suddenly opened, spelling light down the steps and across the grounds. Five or six shadows emerged, and the doors closed again, causing Professor Marchbanks to mutter something unkind about people with no respect for exams in progress as they all tried to regain their night vision.

Carefully labeling Mars, Roisin was extremely glad that she had developed the habit of capping her inkwell between uses as a roar echoed across the grounds, from Hagrid's Hut all the way to the Astronomy Tower, causing her to fumble and barely catch the inkwell before it drenched her star-chart. Pansy had not been so lucky, and her chart was covered with a large zig-zag line from where her quill had slipped. Blaise was muttering darkly as he used an Artist's Charm, meant to clear away spilled paint without damaging the project underneath, to remove a large spill from his chart.

Several other students had forgotten about the exam and were ducking from behind their telescopes to look. The more discreet were angling their telescopes to get a look at Hagrid's Hut, those in the wrong direction making use of a large window that someone had turned into a large mirror, and everyone had been too busy (or two incompetent) to fix it yet.

There was a loud 'BANG' from the grounds, and several yelps from students who had accidentally poked themselves in the face with the end of their telescope. Hagrid's door had burst open, framing him in the light, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists. He was surrounded by six people, and the threads of red light suggested that they were trying to Stun him.

Luckily, it wasn't working, as the Stunning spells kept bouncing off of him, perhaps due to his maternal heritage (Giants were extremely spell-resistant, though not as much as dragons), and cries and yells were echoing across the grounds. "Be reasonable, Hagrid!"

Roisin thought that this was extremely rich, coming from someone involved in a midnight ambush. Hagrid clearly agreed, as he roared at his attackers, "Reasonable be damned, yeh won't take me like this, Dawlish!"

A Stunning Spell caught a smaller shape that was probably fang, dropping him. Hagrid howled with fury, bodily lifted the caster, and threw him a good ten feet. He didn't get up.

Nearby, Parvati cried out and pointed at the entrance, where the doors were opening again. "Look!"

The Scottish lilt and 'cross-me-at-your-peril' stance, evident even when in a dead sprint, identified the emerging figure as Professor McGonagall. "How dare you! Leave him alone! _Alone_, I say! On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such – "

Several people, Roisin included, screamed as Professor McGonagall was hit by no less than four Stunners, glowing red for a moment before she fell hard and didn't rise.

Lights were flickering back on in the castle, as Hagrid bellowed in fury. "COWARDS! RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT – AND THAT – "

The two closest attackers fell to Hagrid's fists, while the remaining three figures retreated hastily to a safer distance. The shortest, whose squat figure and grating voice identified her as Umbridge, tried to force them back into a fight, but her remaining helpers were having none of it, one of them tripping over a fallen colleague as he backed away, and Hagrid took the opportunity to pick up Fang and run toward the castle gates.

* * *

No-one was in the mood to concentrate for the last five minutes of the exam, or to go straight to bed after. All were talking loudly about the attack as they headed for their Common Rooms (ensuring that everyone who didn't know yet would by morning) or, like the Slytherins, Lavender and a few Ravenclaws, branched off toward the Owlery.

Taking out parchment and self-inking quill, Roisin leaped onto Vince's shoulders for a pick-a-back ride, using his head as support as she wrote out a letter to her grandmother. Fionna and Professor McGonagall were friends, and her Nana would know what to do, surely…

Draco's letter was very similar to those of Pansy, Blaise, Desdemona, Theo and Millicent, informing their parents of the attack and asking about implications and what they should do. In spite of the fact that most of them were Death Eaters, Roisin really hoped that they replied quickly.

* * *

Roisin was relieved to have the Muggle Studies OWL the next morning, as it took her mind off the events of the previous night, and gave her a chance to get her head in order before the History of Magic exam.

Many Muggleborn and some Half-blood students took the Muggle Studies OWL or NEWT without taking the class, for an extra passing grade. The especially fun part was that the allowance to do this had originally been put in place for Pureblood students whose families specialized in certain areas, such as having several Historians or Academics in the recent line, or a history of Aurors and Hit-Wizards, as a way to get a leg-up on their non-Pureblood school-mates.

The fact that the Muggleborns and Half-bloods were now taking advantage of a loophole first designed to their disadvantage had several of them quietly giggling as they waited to be called in.

An essay on current Muggle Affairs (which Roisin had heard a lot about from her father), a conversation on the Social Aspects with an examiner, and demonstrating the correct use of a variety of Muggle everyday objects later, Roisin was very confident that she had at least passed, probably with an EE or even an O.

* * *

In the History of Magic Exam, Roisin was starting to see why few people outside of Ravenclaw ever earned more than an A. The 'Ilfracombe Incident' was covered briefly in Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, and someone who was well-versed in world history might rationalize that the Statute of Secrecy was first instituted when the Salem Witch Trials started, and had been drafted and signed during the preceding hunts in Boston three years prior, but other than that, everyone without extra-curricular books (or access to Hermione Granger), would be doomed.

She had been right in that History of Magic would involve a lot more than Goblin Rebellions, In fact; only question four had anything to do with them. "_In your opinion, did wand legislation contribute to, or lead to better control of, goblin riots in the eighteenth century?"_

In Roisin's opinion, the answer was a very clear NO. In fact, several of the riots had been started by a wizard lording the newly passed laws, forbidding non-human creatures to carry or use a wand, over a goblin. Understandably, the goblins got upset about it, and started the riot.

Lichtenstein had been upset with the Head of an International Wizarding Summit because he had been pushing for fair treatment of trolls, and Lichtenstein had been having some very severe problems with a clan of particularly vicious trolls at the time.

The Summit had been held in France, and -

Everyone gasped or murmured when Harry suddenly fell off his chair, screaming and clutching his forehead. Professor Tofty escorted him out, letting him out of the exam early, and Roisin tried to keep her mind on the paper, but her mind was whirling too fast.

They would have known now if Voldemort was close in a geographical sense, but Harry's shields had been good for months!

Had the sessions with Professor Snape done something to make his mind more open to Voldemort's influence, or had his nightly Occlumency exercises just taken a back seat to revision over the past few days. Very strong emotion could still get through, but what could be so strongly felt to cause a reaction like that?

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Ok, this chapter is again shorter, but the next chapter is the Department of Mysteries, and that one should be nice and long. It's kind of amusing that I typed up this chapter right after a day of working as an exam monitor, or Invigilator. If you ever feel tempted to complain about exams, remember that the Invigilators have it nearly as bad as you, since they have to keep an eye on huge groups of students at once, and smile politely when some insecure brat remembers that they haven't studied and know that they're going to fail, and decide that the best way to deal with this is to insult, whine and complain about the exam monitor. Just as a note, the fact that I am female and under thirty does not mean that you are allowed to ignore me when I say to stop writing. In that case, I have to fail you automatically, and no amount of complaining from your parents/friends/family, will change it._

_Before anyone gets upset over my comments about the Astronomy theory, I am Australian, and I just find it amusing that we tend to be a bit straightforward when it comes to naming things, like the Snowy Mountains, the Great Barrier Reef, the Great Australian Bight (the part that looks like someone took a huge bite out of the bottom of Australia), the Snowy River, or the Southern Cross. Deal with it. _

_On a lighter note, I wanted to get this chapter up before my birthday tomorrow, since I will be celebrating that day, and studying for a big exam due two days later. Wonderful timing, huh?_

_Do you know what makes a really great virtual birthday present? Lots of lovely long reviews._

_Thanks, Nat_


	81. Umbridge

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters_

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY**

As the rest of the students filed out of the exam, most talking quietly about Harry's collapse, Roisin pulled Draco to the side. "Find out what happened, and if you can, keep Umbridge out of the way."

Draco scowled, obviously wanting nothing more than to lie down and then celebrate the end of their OWLs. "Why is it so important? Everyone's been having stress attacks!"

Roisin closed her eyes. "It just is. Look, go find out what is going on, and I'll do your Astronomy homework for the rest of the year."

They would still have some homework, as the Hogwarts Academics would also be tallied up, adding to the OWL results, but it wouldn't be as much as usual, and if there was anything Draco would accept as a bribe, it was help with Astronomy. Draco nodded and grabbed the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, while Roisin started thinking of places to search.

Roisin was walking back from the library, running out of places to look for her cousin, when she passed a few older Slytherins, who warned her about Garroting Gas near Umbridge's office in the Defense against the Dark Arts corridor. Roisin started to shake her head at the chaos that was taking over Hogwarts lately, but stopped suddenly.

If there was Garroting Gas in Hogwarts, it would be either locked away securely with a multitude of wards and protective charms, or the teachers would be there to clean it up already. Umbridge was certainly unpopular, but Roisin didn't think that any student was stupid or vindictive enough to actually unleash Garroting Gas without taking precautions. Either something was very wrong, or the rumour of gas was just that: a rumour.

Either way, it would probably be beneficial to see what was happening. But first, she was taking a few precautions, such as back-up to drag her out if there really was Garroting Gas.

Roisin arrived in the Slytherin Common Room just in time to see Draco and several other Inquisitorial Squad members heading out, most muttering darkly about paranoid idiots. She probably had sounded paranoid when she told Draco to go find out what was happening, but may have taken offence if Millicent hadn't muttered something very uncomplimentary about useless toad-women. That confirmed it; there was definitely something going on in that part of the castle, and it was far more serious than a prank.

* * *

Three years ago, Roisin had been attacked by a Basilisk, along with several other students. When she was eventually revived by Mandrake Draught, Blaise had told her the story of going with Harry and Ron to the Chamber of Secrets. While there, Blaise had managed to collect a large quantity of Basilisk skin and had the skin sewn into dueling outfits, with plenty of room to let out as the wearer grew.

'To keep her safe if Harry dragged her into his insane adventures', Blaise had said. It had been one of his first gifts to her when they had started dating, and just because they had broken up didn't mean that Roisin was going to give such a valuable gift back. Break-up dramatics usually lost out to practicality, anyway.

Practicality was why Roisin had been wearing it since she got back to the Common Room after the Astronomy OWL, not willing to risk Professor McGonagall's fate if Umbridge decided to move on to the students, now that she had no-one really in her way.

She had just started walking to the corridor that supposedly contained the Garroting Gas when Pansy and Draco came sprinting toward her. "We found them, but so did Umbridge! She had Stealth Sensory Spells or something and Potter and Granger broke in to try and use the Floo. We tracked down the other Weasleys, Longbottom and Loo – Lovegood so they had backup if Umbridge tries anything, but she sent us to get Professor Snape!"

Oh, Hell. Draco continued down to the dungeons while Roisin and Pansy ran back toward Umbridge's office. Knowing that they couldn't just stroll in, Pansy took Roisin roughly by the arm as soon as they came within sight of the office, pretending to drag her inside. "I found this one loitering outside, Professor!"

Roisin didn't need to feign the glare she leveled at Umbridge as Pansy 'dragged' her over to the side, out of Umbridge's direct line of sight. They had made it only a few moments before Draco and Professor Snape, the latter of whom looked around at the captive students and the fanatical gleam in Umbridge's eye with complete indifference. "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?"

"Ah, Professor Snape," Umbridge stood up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

Veritaserum was a controlled substance, and illegal to use on minors unless they were involved in an investigation, and then only with the signed consent and witness of the Head of the DMLE. Roisin and Pansy exchanged concerned looks as they edged further out of Umbridge's viewpoint. Professor Snape did not appear affected. "You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter. Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

Draco's wand froze half way through the motions for a recording charm. Pansy stopped mid-whisper. Professor Snape had _gone along with it?_ Even compliance with Umbridge to keep the peace couldn't excuse that. The Inquisitorial Squad sent each other worried glances, wondering if they would possibly be next, as Umbridge flushed. "You can make some more, can't you?"

This woman definitely hadn't continued Potions past OWLs. If you didn't brew it before Fifth-Year, it couldn't be done in less than a week. Veritaserum was not a potion that you just 'made more of'. Professor Snape's lip curled. "Certainly. It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in about a month."

Under most circumstances, Roisin would have appreciated the bland sarcasm, but now really wasn't the time. Umbridge swelled in indignation. "A month? _A month?_ But I need it this evening! I have just found Potter using my fireplace to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

Now might be a good time to cut in. "I'm not surprised; probably the rest of the fireplaces are full. I heard a group of Ravenclaws planning to petition Madam Pomfrey to use her fireplace, so they could tell their families how they thought they did on their OWLs, rather than trying to find some un-used parchment and then having to wait for the mail to be screened and sent."

There had been a line-up to use the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room, and probably the other Houses were in a similar situation. Besides, something that made you desperate enough to break into Umbridge's office was probably something that you didn't want to say in front of half of Gryffindor House. Roisin shut up when Professor Snape glared at her. He never liked it when someone offered a reasonable explanation for something Harry did, even when it was just standing still in a corridor, rather than automatically assuming that he was plotting the destruction of mankind as they knew it. "Really? Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow School rules."

The Potions Master's eyes were boring into Harry, but broke away when Umbridge started shouting again. "I wish to interrogate him! I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

Even in the dire circumstances, Roisin couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yes, shouting would really work. Snape was not impressed. "I have already told you that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you that I would have the greatest sympathy if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling."

OK, the hatred between Harry and Professor Snape was already school legend, but this was going a bit far. Telling an absolute maniac that he would be willing to provide poison to get rid of a thorn in her side? The Inquisitorial Squad were not the only ones to exchange worried looks.

Umbridge's voice was the girlish, sweet tone that meant she was bordering on incoherrant fury. "You are on probation! You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you!" (It was probably a good thing that neither professor noticed Draco roll his eyes. Draco's father probably didn't speak to Umbridge at all if he could help it, and certainly wouldn't use Professor Snape as a name-drop when he had so many other connections.) "Now get out of my office!"

Professor Snape turned to do just that – leaving them alone in the hands of a raving lunatic – when Harry burst. "He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Something had happened to Sirius? Where what was hidden? Roisin frowned as Umbridge jumped on the words. "Padfoot? What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Severus?"

Professor Snape's voice was cold. "I have no idea. Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I'm afraid I will have to mention it on your reference if you ever apply for a job."

He left, with everyone staring after him. Vince, who had probably forgotten that he was even holding Neville in the confusion, quickly dropped him. The rest were staring in shock. Professor Snape acted as if he only cared about being forced to do extra paperwork, rather than the possible death of two students!

Umbridge was heaving with rage and frustration. "Very well. Very well…I am left with no choice… this is more than a matter of school discipline… this is an issue of Ministry security… yes… yes…"

She sounded as though she were talking herself into something. Pansy gave up all pretense of restraining Roisin, and the two girls slowly drew their wands, genuinely scared. Leaving Neville to catch his breath, Vince retreated to stand with them. Millicent, who had been holding the confiscated wands, put them down on an easily accessible table. "You are forcing me, Potter… I do not want to, but sometimes circumstances justify the use… I am sure that the Minister would understand that I have no choice…"

Draco and Theo had both cast recording charms earlier, and were looking almost hungry as they waited for Umbridge to say something to truly damn herself. She went far beyond their expectations. "The Cruciatus Curse should loosen your tongue."

The gasps of horror from the Inquisitorial Squad were drowned out by Hermione's shriek. "No! Professor Umbridge – it's illegal!"

As if that had stopped the toad-woman so far. "What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him." Umbridge was pointing her wand at different parts of Harry's body, apparently trying to decide where it would hurt the most. Roisin slowly reached for her dirk, dreading the thought of actually being forced to use it, but knowing that she would if Umbridge actually cast the curse. "He never knew that I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the excuse to expel him, all the same."

There were several variations on '_that was you?'_ from nearly everyone, though Harry was the loudest. The Dementors had nearly killed Dudley and Harry, or worse! If Harry hadn't known how to cast a Partonus charm… Roisin tried to lunge at the woman, but Vince and Pansy lunged at her first, prompting a swift and silent scuffle that only stopped because they wanted to hear Umbridge's justification. "Someone had to act! They were all bleating about silencing you somehow – discrediting you – but I was the one who actually did something about it… only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though. Not now. _Cruc – "_

"NO! No – Harry – we have to tell her!" Everyone stared at Hermione in shock. "We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's… what's the point?"

Hermione began to cry on Millicent, who stepped away in alarm. Umbridge looked triumphant. "Well, well, well! Little Miss Question-all is about to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

Something was wrong. Hermione was a more-than-competent witch, her wand was within easy reach now, and she would never give up that easily, especially not to Umbridge. Also, despite her loud sobs, there was no trace of tears. Roisin's suspicion was proven correct when Hermione claimed that they were trying to contact Dumbledore. If something was wrong with Sirius, they would be trying to contact Sirius, and no one knew where Dumbledore even was. No matter how good an actress Hermione was, the others were not so controlled, or at least hadn't been warned in advance, and their expressions were of surprise, not betrayal or disgust, as they would be if she really was selling them out. It became even more obvious – though not to Umbridge – that Hermione was feeding Umbridge a load of dung when she claimed that they wanted to tell Dumbledore that the weapon was ready.

Aside from the fact that Dumbledore wasn't telling _anyone_ his plans (according to a frustrated coded letter from Fionna, who believed that knowing what you were supposed to be doing/guarding/whatever was a _good_ thing), he certainly wouldn't tell a group of students and leave it up to them.

Draco made a token protest when Hermione managed to con Umbridge into dragging her and Harry away, but didn't press the matter.

The door had barely closed behind them when the other four made a renewed effort to go for their wands. The Inquisitorial Squad instantly let them go, turning to Roisin while they blinked in confusion. "Right, spread out and get people away from the Fireplaces, send Desdemona to the other Common Rooms. Umbridge has gone bat-shit insane and I don't want her accusing anyone else of espionage when they get back. You four – " (that was to Luna and the Gryffindors) " – I don't know what's going on, but you can explain it on the way. Put the DA on alert and we'll go find Harry and Hermione."

The three Gryffindors stared at her in shock, which only increased when Draco reached over and gave her a brief hug. "Be careful. I'll get the First-Years to do something to put us safely in the Hospital Wing so we can't be called on to help the Toad-woman when Granger has finished running her in circles."

The Slytherins left before the others could recover and start cursing, which left Roisin to explain. "For once, the rumour about Slytherins being press-ganged into helping Umbridge was true. We had a meeting about it at the beginning of the year. Shall we get out of here?"

* * *

They did, and Roisin fell into step beside the sole Ravenclaw, who had remained quiet thus far. "What is going on Luna? I doubt it is anything good, but can you give me any specifics as to why we need to find Sirius so urgently?"

Luna's voice was not as dreamy as usual. "Umbridge caught us while we were on lookout so that Harry could check on a vision he had. We need to find them and get to the Ministry of Magic. They are getting ready to launch the Rotfang Conspiracy, and we have to stop them and save Harry's godfather."

Roisin nearly tripped over her own feet. This was worse than she had thought. Hadn't Harry's visions stopped? How did Harry get himself into these situations? "I thought the visions had stopped."

Ron was near enough to hear them. "Lessons with… Snape… always made Harry… feel like his… mind was more… open, not less."

And Harry had been dragged off for a lesson with Snape only recently. The evidence for her Head of House being a cruel and sadistic bastard who wouldn't mind if his students were murdered, rather than just playing extreme favourites, was piling up, and it wasn't good. Roisin forced her mind away from the uncomfortable face, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that she might have spent five years defending Professor Snape for no reason other than seeing it through rose-coloured glasses. "I don't suppose anyone has any ideas on how to get there, as none of us can Apparate, only two of us have access to brooms, and the Floo is being monitored?"

Luna smiled and looked toward the Forbidden Forest. "We fly, of course."

Roisin followed Luna's gaze and felt her lips curl into a slow and faintly wicked smirk. Absently, she wondered if looking forward to riding a Thesteral would be considered overly Gryffindorish.

* * *

Hermione had done some work on the fake Galleons, so that any of the DA could now contact individual people, though Harry still had the 'Master Galleon'. It had been an emergency measure after the last DA meeting, in case they needed to suddenly warn each other. Roisin activated it now, in case they needed rescue while attempting to rescue Harry and Hermione.

Why did they have to lead Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest, of all places? Of course, it was the best place to deliberately lose Umbridge, but still!

Roisin did not seem to be the only one feeling reluctant to enter, but they didn't have much of a choice, despite the acromantulas, centaurs who probably wouldn't be happy to see them, and whatever else was in there, and the fact that they probably wouldn't have anyone willing to come in and rescue them. Luckily, they didn't have to go far before they heard voices. "We need to get back up to the castle."

"By the time we do that, Sirius will probably be dead!"

"Well, we can't do anything without wands. Anyway, Harry, how were you planning to get all the way to London?"

Ron shoved through a bush. "Yeah, we were just wondering that."

The all looked a bit the worse for wear, Harry and Hermione covered in blood, those who had been left in Umbridge's office distinctly the worse for wear after fighting their way through the Forbidden Forest, but they were all in one piece. Ron pushed aside another branch and handed Harry his wand, before turning to lead the way back. "So, had any ideas?"

Harry took it thankfully as Hermione accepted hers from Ginny. "How did you get away?"

Ron looked a bit disappointed, probably hoping for a more dramatic scene in the office. "Well, I could say something about a really wicked fight, but really, Roisin told them to let us go and to get everyone else away from the fires before Umbridge got back and tried to grab them. Anyway, we saw you out of a window, headed toward the Forbidden Forest, and followed. What've you done to Umbridge?"

Harry looked surprised. "She got carried off by a herd of centaurs. What do you mean, 'Roisin told them to let you go'?"

Ginny ignored the question, looking astonished. "They left you behind?"

"No, they got chased off by Grawp. Roisin, what – "

Roisin sighed. "Nearly everyone in Slytherin has a relative in the Ministry of Magic, or is in a position where the Ministry could make life very difficult, and the other Houses were not likely to help us like they would you. It's like Marietta or the Professors; we avoided her if we could and those under pressure helped her when they couldn't possibly avoid it."

Luna entered the conversation, breaking an awkward silence. "Who's Grawp?"

"Hagrid's little brother," Ron answered, causing Roisin to choke at the new level of Dangerous Creature Hagrid had brought in. "Anyway, never mind that now, Harry, what did you find in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius, or - ?"

Harry winced, clapping a hand to his scar. "Yes, and I'm sure that Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to help him."

While Luna repeated what she had told Roisin earlier, in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact tone Roisin had heard her use with anyone else, the token Slytherin frowned. Given that Voldemort was only getting through Harry's mental defences when he really tried, or felt really strong emotion, the pain Harry was feeling meant that Voldemort wanted Harry at the Ministry for some purpose, or that he really did have Sirius, probably under heavy guard, which was in itself a good enough reason not to go by themselves.

House Elves could find their masters, but if Kreature had already said that Sirius wasn't there, it wouldn't do much good. They could send Dobby or Winky, but since neither of the two was bonded to Sirius, there was only so much they would be able to do, except for the fact that House Elves could bypass the majority of Wizarding Wards. Unfortunately, the Ministry Wards were among the exceptions, which meant she couldn't send one of them to search there, either.

On the other hand, Roisin understood the desire to protect the only responsible adult in Harry's life, the Godfather who had risked everything for him, but she also understood the need to not go haring off unaccompanied.

To his credit, Harry didn't start shouting, though he did have an irritated scowl as he turned to face Luna. "OK, first of all, _we_ aren't doing anything if you're including youself in that, and second of all, Ron is the only one with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so – "

Ginny broke in crossly. "I've got a broom!"

Ron shut her down. "Yeah, but you're not coming."

Ah, so Harry had been planning on a Trio outing, rather than meaning anything personal. Ron's sister set his jaw. "Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!"

Possibly not quite as much, as Sirius was Harry's Godfather, and Ginny had met him maybe twice before Grimmauld Place, but it was a nice sentiment. Harry started to speak, probably along the lines of 'you're too young', but she cut him off. "I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher's Stone, and we would have fought off the Inquisitorial Squad if Roisin hadn't got rid of them."

Yes, but the Inquisitorial Squad were nowhere near the level of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. On the other hand, Harry was the only one of them who had actually fought Voldemort, and there was no way that he was going off alone. Neville backed Ginny up. "We were all in the DA together. It was supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it?" He had a fairly valid point. "And this is the first chance we've had to do something real – or was that all just a game or something?"

Roisin – and probably everyone else – could see in advance that no matter what hHarry thought, he was going to lose this particular argument. "NO – of course it wasn't – "

Neville folded his arms. "Then we should come too. We want to help."

Luna smiled brightly, as though Neville had issued an invitation, rather than winning an argument. "All right, then!"

They had reached the edge of the Forest, and several small figures could be seen running down from the castle. Exchanging looks with Ron and Hermione, Harry hadn't noticed yet. "Well, it doesn't matter, anyway, because we still don't know how to get there – "

The small figures had resolved themselves into several DA members, though at least someone had had the sense to leave the First-Years behind. She neatly side-stepped a Thestral, probably drawn by the blood covering Harry and Hermione, and watched in amusement as Luna explained her plan of taking Thestrals to the Ministry.

Luna was a gem, truly, and Roisin adored her, but whenever she said something out of the blue, it usually took a while before you were even on the same book as her, never mind the same page. It was a bit like Luna skipped to the end of a thought, and then tried to tell you the conclusion, but you were still near the beginning, and didn't know half of what she was talking about.

Roisin could make out individual faces now, and cut in. "I hate to interrupt, but we can't go riding off without help. But - "

Harry was growing up, too, as he didn't start shouting when she pointed this out, but only sighed. "We can't floo Grimmauld Place, and Sirius isn't answering the mirror. Contact someone else if you can, but we still have to go."

The DA, lead by Desdemona, Anthony, Cedric and Parvati came running in time to hear the last part of the conversation. Parvati looked grave. "Give me your mirror, whatever that is, and I'll keep trying. Even if Sirius doesn't answer, someone is bound to hear me shouting through it sooner or later."

Cedric agreed. "Give me a minute to send an owl to Dad. He has the clearance to get to the Department of Mysteries, or at least close enough to tell if people are there who shouldn't be."

That was two avenues of backup, and Roisin had a third. She touched the amulet that her Grandmother had given her in Second Year, now shrunken and attached to her charm bracelet, alerting Fionna that there was trouble. "I'll tell Nana."

She still thought it was a bad idea to go running off, but she was smart enough to realize that waiting five minutes to send a message was as far as Harry would be willing to bend, and she wasn't letting him run off without her.

Harry sighed, giving up. "Fine, and what do you suggest we do while that's going on?"

Everyone either missed the sarcasm, or chose to ignore it. Cedric summoned a House Elf, requesting parchment, a self-inking quill, and the fastest owl Hogwarts had. "Some of us will need to stay here, in case the Ministry sends any other Umbridge-esque Minions to see what happened when she doesn't report, but if You-Know-Who and a bunch of Death Eaters are at the Ministry, you're going to need more than six people to even hold him off."

Harry latched onto that. "Right, so Ginny, you stay here and – "

Lavender, of all people, interrupted him. "I'll stay. I'm still not very good at fighting, but I can be dramatic, and nothing scares an adult like a weeping teenager. If I can borrow some of the Firsties, we'll be set for a distraction."

Colin and Dennis also volunteered to remain, since cameras were even more off-putting than hysterical females or first-years, especially since they could hold evidence if someone chose to make a complaint, which would slow any Ministry people down even further.

The Gryffindor Chasers, used to working offensively as a team, also volunteered to stay, as did Michael, along with Terry, Ernie, Hannah and Justin. Mary remained, to direct anyone who came running to Hogwarts in response to a message. The Patil twins were staying with the mirror, promising to shout themselves hoarse until they got an answer, though Parvati topped it off with a very passionate kiss and an order to come back safely, or else.

Those who would be going to the Ministry did their best not to grin as they pretended not to watch, though Ginny looked faintly murderous, and started to mount up, those who could see Thestrals guiding those who couldn't, and those who had ridden before offering instructions on how to mount and what _not_ to do unless you wanted to be thrown off mid-flight.

They were a few Thestrals short, so Desdemona stuck with Roisin, mumbling something about this not being her ideal first time on a horse of any kind. Anthony helped Hermione up on another, and Cho joined Dean. Susan climbed on behind Roisin's cousin Seamus, looking almost as fearsome as her aunt. Luna mounted easily, seating herself side-saddle and arranging her robe around her. Actually, she mounted a bit _too_ easily. Roisin narrowed her eyes as she swung herself onto another. "Luna, just how many times have you ridden a Thestral before?"

Luna said nothing, only offered a radiant, enigmatic smile that almost always meant that the answer would only give Roisin a stress-induced headache.

Harry took one last look around, making sure everyone was on a Thestral, and then glanced at Roisin for directions, as he was among those who hadn't ridden before. Beside him, Roisin nudged her Thestral, which started to move forward, prompting the others to follow. A walk swiftly turned into a trot, and then a canter, and then they were in the air, headed toward London.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: First off, I'm so sorry this is so late. My only excuse is that I spent the last five days too sick to sit up, much less type and post. I decided to give you this now, since I already had it written, and the next chapter will be up as soon as possible, rather than waiting the usual week._

_Also, a question for the readers. I'm still debating a significant point with the DoM battle: Should I have Sirius die? Someone else (if so, who)? No-one?_

_Thanks, Nat_


	82. The Battle Of The Ministry Of Magic

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE**

Roisin had ridden Horses before, of course, but this was the first time she had ridden a winged one. It was a very good thing that Anthony had remembered to apply notice-me-not charms before they left, and that their path would not take them near Heathrow Airport, because even though people seldom looked up, and even though the invisible-to-most Thestrals would be in the way, seeing legs, the occasional body and horses (visible to those who _had_ seen death) appearing to float in mid-air would definitely cause a stir.

Next to Harry, Roisin leaned closer. "So, where do we start looking, anyway, and how do you know?"

Harry tried to lean over, wobbled enough to nearly fall off, and hastily straightened up. "Before I started my Occlumency lessons, I had these visions of the Department of Mysteries, like I was searching for something, trying to get through a door at the end of a hall. During the History of Magic exam, I saw Voldemort torturing Sirius." He gave her a look that begged for understanding, "I know it seems like I'm running off half-cocked, but I can't just wait and let him die."

If it had been her grandmother, Roisin would have done exactly the same thing, so she could hardly condemn him for it. "I understand."

The lights of Muggle towns far below them were the only hint of how high they were and how fast they were going. They flew through the gathering darkness, finally seeing orange light in the distance, which resolved itself into buildings, into streams of headlights from the London rush-hour, into squares and rectangles of pale yellow that were obviously windows.

The Thestrals suddenly headed downward, causing several people to yelp. Gasping as Desdemona clung tighter and glancing behind her, Roisin saw most of the others either holding even tighter or adjusting their seat from where they had slid forward. Roisin gripped on harder, bracing herself for impact, but the Thestrals touched down lighter than a feather, and everyone slid off with varying degrees of grace.

Roisin stretched her legs, looking around at an overflowing rubbish skip and a vandalized telephone box. Ron practically fell off, muttering something about never doing that again and tried to stride away, but his inability to see Thestrals only caused him to walk into one's rump and fall flat. Luna dismounted smoothly, reinforcing Roisin's suspicion that it wasn't the first time she had done this. Anthony steadied Hermione. "That would have been much more fun if it didn't look like I was riding on nothing."

Cho gave him an odd look. "You're fine on a broomstick, but you have trouble with a far more solid winged horse?"

Anthony scowled. "At least with a broomstick I can see what I'm riding!"

Cedric twisted at the waist, making something go 'pop' and causing several people to reflexively wince. "Where do we go from here, Harry?"

Harry looked at him in surprised confusion. "I thought you said that you'd been to the Ministry before?"

Susan nodded. "Of course, but most people use the Floo, unless they already live in London. All I know is that Auntie was grumbling about making another entrance, or there would be a queue long enough for the Muggles to start getting suspicious."

And apparently, Amelia Bones was the only person that had ever occurred to. Harry shook his head and gestured to the telephone booth. "Over here, come – " A sudden difficulty presented itself, "we'll never fit all at once, we'll have to take it in groups. OK, Susan, Dean and both Seamus', get inside and dial six-two-four-four-two."

Being Muggleborn and slightly more up to date with Muggle technology, Dean rolled his eyes. Thinking on the combination for a few moments, Roisin couldn't help but do the same. On a telephone, numbers two through nine also had letter values, so 6-2-4-4-2 also spelled M-A-G-I-C. Worst Password Ever.

Roisin was with the next group, squeezing in with Desdemona, Neville and Luna. She had to twist a bit into a very awkward position to dial the code, and a cool female voice filled the box. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Desdemona wriggled forward before Roisin could open her mouth, squashing her against the side of the box. "Desdemona Moon, Roisin O'Conner, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. We're on a mission of insane bravado and deepest secrecy!"

Roisin and Neville exchanged a long look over Desdemona's head, but for some reason, the answering machine accepted it. "Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

Four badges dropped out of the metal slide that usually just gave change. Roisin rolled her eyes again; each one had a name and reason of business, which was not unusual, but really, '_Roisin O'Conner, Secret Mission'_?

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past the glass, like being in an elevator, and they finally stepped out into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Roisin had expected at least a night guard but there was only the four who had gone before them, and the soft splashing of a very ostentatious golden fountain that made Roisin roll her eyes for the third time in less than ten minutes.

The fountain was made up of a witch and wizard, a centaur, a goblin and a House Elf. In the hands of a significantly more talented architect it might have got away with being merely 'mildly pretentious'. In the hands of whoever designed and made it, the fountain was, at best, ostentanious, degrading and unrealistic.

The wizard bore a striking resemblance to Lockhart at his most annoying, wand raised in an overly-dramatic pose. Despite her likewise lifted wand, the witch stood in a pose more suitable to the cover of one the bodice-ripper novels that Aunt Marge pretended she didn't own. The House Elf was more or less in character, gazing up at the other four, but the centaur and goblin…

Well, maybe there was an even-less-in-touch-with-reality-than-normal centaur who went around with that kind of dopey grin on its face, rather than the mystical solemnity of all those that Roisin had seen or heard about so far. Perhaps there was a self-respecting goblin who would stare worshipfully at 'that self-important git and the vapid wench on his arm', as per Desdemona's description.

But Roisin doubted it.

By now, everyone was in, and Harry led the way down the hall, wands drawn, looking for signs of a security guard that should have been there. They passed through the gates of a lift which was used to a multitude of people with very little idea of where they were going, and managed to fit all of them.

Harry pressed the button for level nine, and everyone staggered into each other as the lift shot off, until the same cool female voice as the one in the phone box announced that they had reached the Department of Mysteries.

Harry turned toward a plain black door, leading the way down the corridor, stopping a few feet away from it. "OK, listen, maybe a couple of people should stay here as a lookout, and -"

"And how are we going to let you know if something's coming?" Ginny interrupted. "You could be miles away."

Cedric frowned at her. "You came here on the understanding that Harry was leading us, which means that everyone does what he says, even you. That is not up for debate."

Harry obviously took confidence from _someone_ openly expressing support for his leadership. "Right. Ginny, Roisin, Anthony and Dean, you stay here. If you see or hear anyone, send a Patronus and hold them off for as long as you can. If it's a Death Eater, use whatever spells you need to stay alive. Everyone else, let's go."

* * *

Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Neville, Luna, Susan, Cho, Seamus, Desdemona and Cedric followed Harry through the black door, while the named four took up guard positions. Ginny was very clearly not pleased at being left behind and kept muttering under her breath. "_Ginny stay here… treats me like a child… not the only one to face You-Know-Who… overbearing… what gives them the right…"_

It was a toss-up for who was going to get fed up first, but Anthony finally snapped. "Look, just shut up. We're here to make sure that the others don't get ambushed from behind, and you don't hear the rest of us whining about it! You wanted to come, but you aren't the one leading us. This is serious business, so be quiet and follow the orders we were given!"

Roisin silently applauded, and then saw something that wiped all amusement off of her face. "Oh shit. Draco is going to be upset."

Dean looked confused. "What does Malfoy have to do with this?"

Roisin pointed down the corridor, where a dozen or so Death Eaters were approaching, led by Lucius Malfoy. Dean said something a bit nastier, and the four planted their feet. The sole witch, recognizable as Bellatrix LeStrange, fixed them all with a deranged glare, while Mr Malfoy contented himself with a superior smirk. "Get out of the way, children."

Roisin adjusted her stance into a better one for fighting as Ginny sent a horse Patronus cantering down the hall. "Rather not, thanks. Turn around and leave before I have to explain to one of my best friends why his father is sporting a black eye."

There was a snicker from somewhere in the Death Eater ranks, quickly silenced as Mr Malfoy stopped advancing on them and turned around to glare in that general direction. Bellatrix scowled. "We don't have time for this. The Master wants Potter."

Roisin didn't wait for them to start cursing, but took a few steps forward to carry out her promise, lessons from Seamus Finnegan at the forefront of her mind as the aristocratic man staggered backward, a hand over his bleeding nose as he let out a very un-aristocratic stream of swear-words.

Bellatrix was already half way through a curse, but several of the Death Eaters were blinking in shock, unused to an opponent who had the sheer audacity to fight back. Unfortunately, most of them had the presence of mind to put up some very strong shields, which deflected most of the student's attacks, though a few of them got through.

The student's best line of defense was the fact that twelve people couldn't walk side by side, so a corridor was not the best place for the Death Eaters to fight, and the large piles of rubble from where two spells had collided.

One Death Eater went down to a double Bludgeoning Hex from Anthony and Roisin, but managed to retaliate with a Disarming spell that caused Roisin's wand to fly out of her hand, landing behind her. She cursed herself for letting them disarm her, even as she shifted to a different method. She wasn't about to lose her dirk in a throwing attack, and they were too close for hand to hand, but that wasn't her only defense.

A snarling wolf the size of a large pony is enough to give anyone pause, and also moved significantly faster than a human, which allowed Roisin to flatten one Death Eater, who was a bit too close for his own good, and then get back to her wand and join the others behind some form of cover. She met their surprised looks. "Yes, yes, now can we forget that happened until we get out of here alive and I get the chance to actually register?"

The fight was vicious, and the students did manage to hold their own for a while, but being outnumbered at least three-to-one by people with decades more experience are not good odds, and it was a very good thing that the Death Eaters didn't think that they had time to waste for torturing and killing them, so they were simply disarmed and bound.

* * *

Thankfully, ropes that bind a giant wolf are not as effective on a teenage girl, and left enough room for Roisin to shift back and, with some very uncomfortable wriggling, get at her dirk, cutting her way free. She turned to do the same to the others when the sound of running feet made her spin around, wand drawn.

It was Mr Diggory, his face unusually resolved. He untied the other three with a flick of his wand. "Where are they?"

Roisin pointed down the hall. "That way. They said something about a room filled with glowing balls on shelves…"

Mr Diggory nodded. "The Hall of Prophecies. Since you're already here, follow me and stay close."

* * *

The Hall of Prophecies was a shattered mess, and Roisin didn't envy whoever got stuck with clean-up duty. It was easy to figure out where the others had gone; you just had to follow the trail of destruction.

The DA who had gone on with Harry had been forced to split up at some point, which resulted in picking up Susan, Desdemona and both Seamus', and in Ginny breaking away from the group when she thought she saw her brother. The door slammed behind her before they could drag her back, and they were forced to go on without her.

They found where Harry was by virtue of a Death Eater shouting at the top of his lungs, which was a bit hard to miss. "WE'VE GOT HIM! IN AN OFFICE OFF – "

The way he was suddenly cut off suggested that someone had taken him down, but Roisin's blood suddenly ran cold when Harry's voice screamed in horror. "HERMIONE!"

A large Death Eater, who somehow had the head of an infant, blundered past them, waving his arms and screaming. Firmly reminding herself that the rest of him was still capable of hurting people, especially when his friends managed to reverse whatever had caused it, Roisin hit him with a cutting curse across the chest. The screaming stopped as the Death Eater fell and didn't get up again.

They found the room that held Harry and Hermione, along with Neville and two fallen Death Eaters. Hermione was lying unconscious on the floor, a large cut down her chest, but still breathing. The two boys knelt beside her, Harry with a cut over his cheek and Neville with a clearly broken nose. One of the Death Eaters had fallen to a blasting curse, if the large hole in the middle of his chest was anything to go by, but the other, Dolohov, was merely Silenced and in a Body Bind.

Roisin resisted the urge to swear at someone, purely because she wasn't sure who to swear at. Of course they were injured and losing, if everyone was sticking to schoolyard hexes! Susan was about to hit Dolohov with something a bit more permanent, but it looked like he was very good with silent casting, because he had managed to break the body-bind and sprang to his feet, causing everyone to dodge while Dolohov ran for it.

Harry and Neville were heaving Hermione up, her arms draped over their shoulders. Anthony shook his head, casting a lightening charm on the unconscious girl. "Give her to me, and keep your wands out."

Neville's wand was lying on the floor in pieces, so Harry passed him Hermione's. "Here, you'd better take this."

Neville accepted it, giving his shattered wand a final glance. "By Gran's going do kill be. Dat was by Dad's old wand."

Roisin shook her head and opened the door. "Worry about that later."

* * *

They ran out of the room into the black hallway, which seemed deserted for now. The door swung shut behind them, and the room started to spin, causing several people to swear vividly. "So, which way do you reck – "

A door to their right sprang open, and three people fell out. Ron was giggling and unfocused, lurching forward and grabbing Harry's robes. "Harry, there you are… ha ha ha… you look funny, Harry… you're all messed up…"

Ginny was slumped against the wall, panting and clutching her ankle. Luna appeared unhurt, though she was limping slightly. Harry looked fearful as Ron's knees gave out from beneath him, dragging Harry down into a kind of half-bow. "What happened?"

There was no trace of Luna's dreamy expression or abstract manner of speaking. "I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack. Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets – "

Ron interrupted, giggling something about Uranus, as blood trickled out of his mouth. Luna spoke over him. "Anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny's foot, so I blew up Pluto in his face, but…"

She gestured helplessly at the other girl. Mr Diggory cast a spell that wrapped Ginny's leg in bandages, and, after a few seconds, added a numbing charm. "That'll have to do for now. What about Mr Weasley?"

Luna glanced at him sadly. "I don't know what they hit him with, but he's gone a bit funny. I could hardly get him along at all."

Dean silenced and body-bound Ron as a mercy, levitating him. Harry pulled himself together. "We've got to get out of here. Luna, can you help Ginny?"

Luna stuck her wand behind her ear and helped Ginny up, ignoring the red-head's protests that she could do it herself. They started to move toward a door when another one burst open, revealing Bellatrix LeStrange, followed by three other Death Eaters. "_There they are!_"

Stunning spells shot across the room, and they ran for a different door, slamming it just in time for three bodies to hit, meaning that one of them had gone down. Unfortunately, the door didn't hold for long, especially after one Death Eater started shouting the location, drawing several other running feet, and they were fighting again, this time hampered by three injured. Roisin, back to back with Susan, yelled to her cousin. "Harry, get out of here! We'll hold them off!"

Harry was the most important of them, Voldemort's biggest target, the one who had faced him the most times. Roisin didn't have the time to see who else had yelled the same, as another door crashed open, this one revealing Cedric and Cho, much to Mr Diggory's obvious relief. Cho was also wandless, but made up for it with the speed and reflexes of a Seeker, coupled with some very impressive Martial Arts.

Luckily for those still standing, the Death Eaters seemed more concerned with Harry than with them, and most took off in pursuit. The few remaining went down and stayed down. Roisin took a quick head-count. Ron, Ginny and Hermione were down, and Seamus O'Conner wouldn't be going anywhere with two broken arms and an injured leg. They couldn't leave them alone, but bringing them along would be even worse, and take a further four out of the fight to support them.

Neville had followed after Harry, so Roisin turned to Anthony, who still held Hermione, who looked like she was starting to stir. At the world cup last year, Roisin had used a rune cluster to hide and shield them. She drew a similar one now, before handing her wand to Anthony. "If you keep quiet, no-one except us will find you. If Hermione wakes up, give her my wand, and curse any adult who comes through that door. We'll get you or send someone when it's safe."

Anthony nodded, and the remainders of the DA ran off, following the shouts, crashes and yelling that marked Harry and Neville's progress.

* * *

They caught up in a room that was empty except for an archway with what looked like a floating, ragged, veil. The fight was going badly, at least ten Death Eaters against two schoolboys, and the DA didn't need to discuss things before they partnered up and sprang into the fray. They had trained for this, and they were not going to let their friends down!

The thing about hummingbirds is that they are bloody impossible to hit. They are also a very effective distraction when you are trying to aim at a very large wolf and have something flickering in and out of your vision, blocking it but moving too erratically to hit or catch. If you do manage to focus long enough to catch it, it is still no use, because by then the wolf is almost certainly close enough to sink its teeth into something tender.

Worse yet, just when you manage to conjure a net to track the hummingbird until it catches it, said hummingbird turns back into a witch, and the net isn't big enough to do more than look like a particularly silly hat.

By that point, the young witch also has use of her wand again, and the wolf has likewise turned back into a human and stabbed through the tendons of your wand hand with a very sharp dirk.

* * *

In Second Year, Roisin had received an amulet that would allow her to let her grandmother know she was in trouble. As they rode the Thestrals to London, Roisin had had the sense to use her amulet to send a distress message to her Grandmother and, through her, to the Order of the Phoenix. Just in time, they had finally arrived. Now, she was thanking every deity and higher power she knew of as the Hogwarts students were evacuated. Sheltered under Fionna's arm, Roisin winced as a curse shot over their heads.

Pushing Roisin forward, Fionna turned and shot an over-powered _luminos_ at the caster, Rabastan LeStrange, who was fighting next to his sister-in-law, Bellatrix, temporarily blinding both. It didn't stop them for long, but it was enough to make the curses they were yelling to go wide, their opponents to get a free shot before moving away from the veil and into a more defensible position, and for Fionna and Roisin to get out of there.

They made it back to where the injured DA Members had been hidden, accompanied by Sirius and Tonks. Roisin knocked, loudly identified herself, and went first, as she had left instructions to severely curse any adult, and accidentally dropping your would-be-rescuers was not a good idea.

Hermione was awake and aware, and had managed to bandage her torso with conjured linen and a large piece of her robes as a kind of padding. Anthony had probably been asked to help, if the deeply uncomfortable expression on his face was any indication. In other circumstances, he likely wouldn't have minded, but concentrating on holding a bandage in place to soak up blood tends to take your mind off the fact that your hands are in dangerous proximity to a girl's mostly bare chest.

* * *

Augusta Longbottom and Neville had teamed up against Rudolphus LeStrange, and seemed to be slowly gaining the upper hand. If the Death Eater hadn't regained much of his sanity after escaping Azkaban, he had certainly brushed up on his fighting skills.

Eventually, Rudolphus got through with a cutting curse that opened Madam Longbottom's wand arm to the bone, and hit Neville with a Cruciatus Curse. Seeing his grandmother on the ground, temporarily as unresponsive as his parents, set something on fire in Neville. He somehow fought his way through the pain, raising his wand and holding it almost steady as he forced a bone-breaking curse, used by healers to re-break a badly-healed bone, through gritted teeth.

The Cruciatus curse made his aim shaky, and the curse missed Rudolphus's chest, hitting his wand arm instead, giving Augusta time to get up and return a cutting curse of her own, this one going through the Death Eater's neck.

Another spell tightly bandaged Augusta's arm, and a statis charm would keep it that way until a healer could get there.

The tide was turning against the Death Eaters… which, of course, was why Voldemort chose that moment to make a dramatic entrance. Unlike most predictable villains, however, he was smart enough to bring even more back up.

Emmeline Vance was closest, and had probably been in Gryffindor, if the commendable way she turned and sent a cutting curse at the newcomer, possibly not even recognizing him at first, was any example. Unfortunately, Voldemort had not risen to his current position by being slow or stupid, and deflected it almost lazily. A second spell blew Emmeline off of her feet and into a wall, where she connected with a sickening crack and fell to the ground, lying still with her neck at a horrible angle.

The DA were understandably scared, but they had been running on mostly adrenaline for the last hour, which didn't leave much chance for freezing in terror.

Cedric had nearly beheaded Voldemort in the Graveyard last year, and wasn't above trying again, banishing a broken piece of the fountain at the Dark Lord's head. Dramatic speeches are a lot less impressive when you have to suddenly stop in order to duck a flying house-elf ear, and it spurred the rest into action.

Of course, Voldemort didn't take it very well. He ducked the ear and turned on them in a fury. "How dare you defy..."  
Roisin summoned a large crate of Magical Mess Remover from a storgae closet that had been knocked open, causing him to duck again. "How Dare..."  
The rest of the DA broke free of their stupor and aimed a barrage of spellfire. "How..."  
Someone, probably a Hufflepuff, transfigured a rock into a Honey Badger. Voldemort looked faintly alarmed and very annoyed as he blew it apart. "QUIT IT!"

Roisin had been a bit limited when she left her wand behind with Anthony, but she had it back now, and the same spell that had protected herself from ambush prior to the OWLs now threatened to trample the Death Eaters. It didn't quite work, but it certainly caused confusion when the front ranks tried to run away, but couldn't get through the ones behind them, who were having a bit of trouble trying to cast without hitting their fellows.

Several pieces of broken masonry were transfigured into a Tasmanian devil, three rattans, an echidna (Roisin bet on Luna being responsible for that), a wombat and a wolverine. Five of those were singularly vicious animals, one had a dense enough body mass to come out the victor in a collision with a small truck, and the last had more spikes than anyone sane really wanted to deal with, especially when someone gave it a firm poke in the stomach before banishing it at the Death Eaters

Hermione (whose retrieved wand had a bloody tip, for some reason) went another way, conjuring a nest of hornets over Voldemort's forces. Cho joined in by casting a rattling charm, sometimes used on baby toys, as Hermione let the nest drop.

* * *

Voldemort was a powerful wizard, but being attacked en masse was trouble for anyone. A random Death Eater probably hoped to distinguish himself by throwing himself in front of his master, but the promotion would be post-humorous, as he stepped right into three stunners, an entrails-expelling hex, a bone-vanishing charm and a butchering hex. No matter how battle-hardened someone is, seeing someone collapse into a human-shaped sack as their intestines hit One in the face and their organs drop into a neat pile in front of One is enough to give even a Dark Lord pause. Several other Death Eaters made retching noises.

Luckily, another large group of people, including Dumbledore (showing up a few seconds before the rest), most of the Auror Department, a hacked-off Madam Bones and Minister Fudge himself, arrived _after_ Voldemort vanished the Death Eater innards, and only saw the DA and the Order fighting Voldemort and his forces. Roisin didn't know why or how a Daily Prophet reporter was also there, but she was willing to bet that a picture of Harry going wand-to-wand with Voldemort would be gracing tomorrow's front page.

Even so, the Death Eaters managed to rally themselves. Dolohov managed to disarm Roisin and conjured some kind of flame-whip. Desdemona was busy with her own opponent, and Roisin wouldn't be able to go for her wand without leaving her friend's back unprotected. She threw her dirk in a practiced move, taking him in the throat, but it was too late to stop the curse. The Basilisk skin armor protected her body, but her face was vulnerable, and all she could do was raise her arms to shield herself.

She screamed in agony as the fire whip hit them, but managed to raise her arms and duck her head as the purple flames wrapped around her arms. Shacklebolt managed to dispel the whip, and Desdemona summoned her wand after taking down her own enemy, but Roisin was very much out of the fight, so the smaller girl wrapped her arms around Roisin's torso to keep her upright, staggering behind the line of DA members.

* * *

Dumbledore, who Voldemort had labeled a slightly more immediate threat, had finished a duel that made everyone else stop fighting and dodge for cover to avoid being burned or drowned. Unfortunately, 'finished' meant 'grabbed Bellatrix and made a tactical retreat'.

Fighting off a mental attack at close range had left Harry swaying and exhausted, supported by those DA who could stand under their own power. Dumbledore summoned a piece of the well-and-truly smashed ex-fountain and turned it into a Portkey, which he handed to Harry before any of the spectators could start asking questions. Harry took the Portkey, holding it out to the other injured students. Eager to get out of the Ministry, those students who couldn't get close enough to touch it grabbed onto those who could, and were promptly whisked away.

* * *

They landed with a thump and much swearing in Dumbledore's office. Susan, closest to the door, tried to open it, but it wouldn't give. Not able to do much with her injured arms, Roisin sighed. "Someone call a House Elf or send a Patronus to the DA who stayed here, please."

Harry wriggled away from where Ginny had overbalanced on her broken ankle and landed on top of him. "_Expecto patronum. _Dobby!"

The hat-covered House Elf appeared, bouncing excitedly. "Harry Potter, sir! What can Dobby – " he stopped abruptly, taking a closer look at all of them. "Harry Potter, sir is hurt! He is being taken to the Hospital Wing with no complaining!"

As Dobby and Harry vanished, Roisin couldn't help but giggle. "I think he's been taking lessons from Winky."

Too late, she realized that she had accidentally summoned the other House Elf, who appeared, vanished, and returned with several more of her fellows, muttering darkly as they removed the other students to Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: A few people wanted me to kill off Bellatrix, but I have plans for that already. Don't worry, none of those plans include a duel with Molly Weasley. I thought it would be good to have Neville and Madam Longbottom take down one of the Death Eaters who tortured Neville's parents, so there you are._

_I didn't kill Sirius, and the battle went very differently this time, thanks to more members, some planning, and a bit more combat training. I found it ridiculous that the original Ministry Six stuck to Stunners, Body-Binds and Impedimenta against Death Eaters who were playing for keeps and handing out Unforgivable Curses like Halloween Candy._

_Last chapter had seventeen reviews, and this chapter was bloody hard to write, so I would appreciate feedback, even if it's just telling me that I took the changes way too far._

_Thanks, Nat_


	83. Prelude To The War

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. I've been saying this for the past eighty-two chapters; can I stop yet?_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

_A/N: By the way, does anyone here like the 'Underworld' series? I posted my first fic in that category a few days ago, and I'd love any opinions. _

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE**

Roisin barely remembered reaching the Hospital wing, or Madam Pomfrey pouring a few potions down her throat. It was late, and several hours running on pure adrenaline had left her utterly exhausted. Her last thought was to wonder how long it would take the other DA members to sneak in to check on them.

When she woke, it was just morning, from the position of the sun out of the east window. Her arms were heavily bandaged, she had a pounding headache, a tall blonde woman was dozing in a chair next to her bed, several beds had been enlarged for DA students who had probably just refused to leave… wait, go back!

Looking closer, Roisin wondered if she was still dreaming. It was not possible that her mother was dozing by her bed. She was at Hogwarts, and her mother still really didn't like magic! How did she even get there? Wait… Winky had gone and told her _parents?_ She was doomed.

Draco was in a bed nearby, his own mother sitting beside him, looking relatively unharmed, and the best bet was that he had been hexed recently. Most likely someone had taken exception to being forced back to their Common Room after Umbridge had taken Harry and Hermione into the Forbidden Forest.

She looked around at the rest of the Hospital Wing. Lavender and Padma were sharing one of the expanded beds, while Parvati had transformed the chair next to Harry's bed into a kind of raised divan, her dark hair spread over the covers. A large black dog, clearly Sirius, was curled up at the end of the bed. Other parents were also scattered around the beds.

A flash of red hair showed Aunt Nessa and Mary dozing next to Seamus, while Erin lay with Millicent on another expanded bed. Pansy and Desdemona were likewise settled. Anthony had copied Parvati's position next to Hermione. Ron and Ginny were both in hospital beds of their own, but closer together than most. The rest of the DA were scattered around, which suggested that Madam Pomfrey had given up trying to throw them out in favour of treating her patients and just ordering them to stay out of her way while she worked.

Nearby, Cedric stirred and woke, having the sense to keep his voice down. "Ouch. Morning, Roisin, how do you feel?"

Roisin looked down at her arms, bandaged to almost twice their usual circumference. "Bulky and sore. What about you?"

Cedric shrugged. "Bed rest just in case. Dad insisted before he had to go to the Ministry. Now that You-Know-Who is officially back, nearly everyone over there is running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and he said that someone who knew what they were doing had to be there."

Roisin couldn't help a giggle as she looked at Petunia, still unable to believe that she was there. "So, nothing new, except that they are finally admitting that they have an actual problem to deal with?"

Unfortunately, the giggle was just loud enough to wake her mother. Petunia stirred and blinked, then looked down at her daughter's frankly astonished expression, correctly interpreting it. "You've been out for over a day. Winky said that you had been badly hurt, and the Healer was having trouble fixing your injuries. Your father is on a weekend trip, but I wasn't about to stay home and wait. Especially not after those Dementors attacked Dudley and the boy last summer."

Wow.

Roisin couldn't really think of anything else to describe it. Petunia Dursley had been firmly against magic for years, and was not keen on Hogwarts in any sense. It looked like Roisin had underestimated her mother, or maybe she had underestimated the severity of her own injuries.

Others were starting to stir by now, and equal amounts of fussing were going on. A very exhausted-looking Madam Pomfrey seemed relieved, as parents and other family members were met with less resistance when making reluctant students take their potions.

The Slytherin boys didn't take long to appear, after Pansy slipped out as soon as she woke up and realized that Roisin was conscious again. This was greeted with a small amount of hostility, especially when they were but since they stuck around Roisin's bed, and no-one really felt up to physically throwing them out, they let it go.

* * *

Dumbledore didn't take long to appear, either, though his arrival was heralded with more indifference by the students. Sirius transformed from dog to human when the Headmaster approached Harry's bed, his expression taking on a mulish, protective cast that suggested that Dumbledore was in for a fight if he tried to interrogate Harry now, but someone else got to the Headmaster first.

Before anyone could stop her, Roisin's mother was advancing on Dumbledore in a fashion that would have made most people back up hastily. To his credit or lack of self-preservation, Dumbledore didn't flinch. "Ah, Petunia. You remember my last letter, I take it? I'm afraid I have more important – "

The blonde woman cut him off, hissing in fury. "Don't you try to dismiss me, old man! First you drop the boy on our doorstep like a bottle of milk, with nothing more than a note to say that he is in terrible danger from Dark Wizards and our home is the only place he will be safe – nothing about _our_ safety, I recall – and now this! My daughter is in the Hospital Wing, and the Nurse says that it was a close thing that she didn't lose the use of her arms! What kind of school are you running? Tell me why I shouldn't withdraw Roisin and the boy right here and now?"

Professor Snape rolled his eyes. "Still the nagging harridan, I see." He strode forward to take her by the arm, probably to remove her. "Why don't you stay out of – "

The Slytherin Head of House let out a terrific swear word when Petunia Dursley hauled off and punched him in the eye. Most of the other occupants of the Hospital Wing either stared in shock or burst into quiet cheers, not wanting to draw attention and break up this fascinating street (or hospital) theatre. Petunia glared at the Potions Master for a moment. "Lily did the same thing when you used to drop branches on my head, and I'm not twelve years old anymore, Snape. Don't think I didn't hear about you leaving defenceless children alone with a raving lunatic who didn't mind torturing them!"

The expression on Draco's face suggested that he was about to protest being called defenceless, but Millicent clapped a hand over his mouth, and everyone else glared, not wanting the show to be interrupted. Petunia's attention went back to the Headmaster, but was diverted by Augusta Longbottom, who was favouring her wounded arm as she stood from her seat next to Neville, but looked no less dangerous for it. "Mrs Dursley raises several good points, Dumbledore. I'm proud of my grandson, naturally, but I'm very interested in how the situation developed in the first place, and how certain Professors are said to have handled things this year."

Nessa O'Conner, sitting with her children, rose to her feet, the very image of lethal grace. "I'd like to hear that explanation, too."

Whispers could be heard in the background, if you managed to drag your attention away from the cornered Headmaster. "_Well, we knew Roisin had to get the sharp side of her tongue from somewhere…"_

"_Yeah, but facing down Dumbledore like that…"_

"_Should someone maybe step in?"_

Whether someone should step in was not the point, as it was very clear that no one was going to. Petunia wasn't finished. "And another thing, what about the boy? You leave him on the doorstep and we don't hear anything for ten years! We didn't have the first clue about how to raise a magical child – and don't try to tell me I should have relied on childhood memories of Lily! I was two years older and her sister! I loved her, but I wasn't the one to raise her! We didn't know if Magical children needed the usual immunizations, or any way to access your kind on medicine if it became necessary! Your letter didn't say anything except that Lily was dead! How were we to know what to do when Harry woke up screaming about green light and a bad man? Or when he hid in the boot-cupboard and wouldn't come out, until it was the only place he would fall asleep? And despite all that, you just left him there, and didn't check up on him once!"

"_OK, this is really getting interesting…"_

"_Shut up and listen. Does anyone have access to a pensive after we get out of here?"_

Dumbledore raised his wand, but it was astonishingly ignored. "Your plans already cost me my sister the last time. Now you intend for it to cost my daughter and nephew as well? Well, if you are thinking of involving them, you'll have to explain yourself to me before you get near them! Black might be an impulsive idiot from what I recall, but I'm sure he'll stand with me on this!"

Sirius stopped staring long enough to nod his agreement when Petunia levelled an expectant glare at him, but Dumbledore let out a blast like a cannon from his wand before either of them could continue, earning a furious glare from Madam Pomfrey and waking up those who had somehow managed to stay asleep so far. "Perhaps we could take this to my office."

He looked more than a little put out when Roisin's mother didn't immediately comply, but glanced at the assorted other parents or guardians, who all stepped forward in agreement. "Very well, I suppose you can provide answers as well there as here." She walked back to kiss Roisin's forehead. "I'll be back later, dear."

Petunia and Narcissa led the way out, and Neville finally broke the silence. "Roisin, do you think your mother would mind if I sent her flowers?"

Ernie looked almost star-struck. "Get in line. Did everyone else see her punch Snape out like that?"

Millicent almost grinned, but grew serious. "Speaking of whom, what are we going to do about the Potions Master?"

That drew some inquiring looks. "What do you mean 'do about him'? He's your biased Head of House."

Draco scowled, which obviously surprised most people. "Our Head of House who left us alone with a raving madwoman, and implied that the only reason he cared about a student's safety was because he didn't want to deal with the paperwork if they were killed! There is no good way to spin that, no matter what you do!"

Ron rolled his eyes, thankfully out of the barely-coherent babbling effects of whatever spell he had been hit with. "I swear, if you try to say that your father will hear about this, I am going to laugh in your face."

That was insensitive, even if Mr Malfoy had been among the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Draco was not the only one to glare. "Father won't be able to do anything, but Mother is going to be furious, and you don't survive having Bellatrix LeStrange as an older sister without picking up a few things. I hope Umbridge has her will made out."

He rose to his feet, making sure Madam Pomfrey's back was turned. "Roisin, when you and Potter get out of here, can I have a word?"

Oh dear, that sounded bad. Roisin nodded and lay back. "I'll see what I can do

* * *

The Great Hall was more full, and a bit quieter, thanks to the parents of certain students, who had shown up to find out why their children had been fighting Death Eaters in the Ministry, and refused to leave until they got a satisfying explanation. One or two had left to take it up with Fudge when Dumbledore deflected them by pointing out that his ability to act had been limited by restrictions placed on him, and when the Ministry had removed him as Headmaster, but the others were staying, and no force on Earth would have removed Petunia until she knew for a fact that her daughter was going to make a full recovery.

Roisin was managing not to sulk as her mother cut her toast into bite-sized pieces, as she was still not allowed to do much of anything with her arms. It had been a fight to avoid the indignity of being spoon-fed by a House Elf. "Does anyone have a copy of the paper? I want to see what they're saying."

She had been right in that a full-page picture of Harry vs. Voldemort on the front cover, but the three pages consisting of nothing but captioned pictures of everyone else had been a bit of a surprise. There was the DA as a group, firing at Voldemort. There were individual shots and small-group shots, like Neville and Madam Longbottom fighting Rodolphus, or what Roisin proudly thought was a very flattering shot of her taking down someone who had yet to be identified.

Hermione and Anthony were going to have fun explaining the picture of the two of them, just before they took the Portkey. Anthony was carrying Hermione, but her body was angled at such a way that no-one could see the injury, and it was probably going to have half the teenage witches in the country swooning. The other half would be swooning over the other pictures of the DA boys, or cheering the ones of Susan, Desdemona, Roisin and Luna.

Roisin turned a page via ordering Desdemona to do it for her, wondering how the _Daily Prophet _was going to wriggle their way out of the fact that they had been calling Harry a delusional liar for the last year.

_HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS!_

_In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He who must not be named has returned to this country and is once more active._

"_It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord – well, you know who I mean – is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the Dementors are currently taking direction from Lord – Thingy."_

_ "We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defence which will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."_

_The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that 'there was no truth whatsoever to the persisting rumours of You-Know-Who's return'._

_Details of the events that led to the Ministry's turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry itself on Thursday evening._

_Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power._

_Meanwhile, the Boy-Who-Lived, who has been a lone voice of truth as he tried to warn the Wizarding World of Voldemort's return, has also been unavailable for comment, though there is speculation that he and his friends are recovering from injuries sustained in a fight against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. The _Daily Prophet_ hopes that they will agree to an interview at a later date._

_Harry Potter spent a year being perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story as he was forced to bear ridicule and slander in his quest to unveil the truth._

_You-Know-Who's last attempt to take over, page four to six. What The Ministry Should Have Told Us, page seven. Why No One Listened To Albus Dumbledore, pages eight to ten. Exclusive Interviews Attempting To Reveal The Truth, pages eleven to fourteen._

The 'exclusive interviews' were actually re-prints of the interviews that had been given to the other newspapers, who had probably sold them with a fair bit of gloating, but at least the Prophet was admitting the facts now. The news from the Ministry was not so helpful and Roisin sighed as she closed the paper, glancing round at the other Slytherins and several DA members, who had been convinced to join the Slytherin table as a show of support for the tale that they were as much victims of the Umbridge Administration as everyone else, only in a different way. "A meeting after breakfast, I think? The Ministry isn't going to be doing anything useful, so I suggest we start thinking of ways to do it ourselves."

Antony, his recent NEWT experience giving him a bit of a lose tongue, stopped using his arms as a pillow long enough to lift his head and glare at her. "I didn't object earlier in the year, but why is a Fifth-Year calling all the meetings, instead of the Seventh-Years, who have seniority? Especially when she's the daughter of a Squib and a mere Muggle?"

Roisin's mother fixed the youth with a glare that actually made him cower slightly, despite the fact that she was a 'mere Muggle'. "My parents died because they didn't know how to defend themselves against a magical attack, and because Lily was forbidden from telling us much of anything. Are you trying to tell me that we should sit back and wait to be slaughtered?"

Antony's bravado was gone. "No, Ma'am."

* * *

The Room of Requirement was getting some serious use lately, as the DA gathered for the last time that year. Roisin took the floor first, feeling slightly ridiculous when Desdemona had to cast a sonorous charm for her. "Right, since the Ministry is unlikely to do more than hand out pamphlets telling us what we already know and maybe suggesting that we renew any wards, it looks like we'll have to be proactive. At the moment, the public loves us, and Fudge is not in a strong enough position to do anything if we say that we're practising to defend ourselves from Death Eaters. Harry, I know you hate using fame like this, but I need you to write to Fudge or someone about relaxing the restriction on Underage Magic a bit. Right now, Fudge will bend over backward to be seen making amends, and we can use that. If he doesn't, we talk to the newspapers about it."

Susan took up the speech that the two girls had practiced beforehand. "We learned a lot in the DA, but everyone else had a year of reading from a useless textbook. As soon as you get home, write to your friends who weren't in the DA. Talk to your family. Teach them everything you can from what we know. Book a private parlour in a Wizarding establishment where there is too much magic floating around for it to be easily detected, or in large enough groups that the Department of Underage Magic will be so busy trying to trace everyone that they can't pin down a single person."

Cedric continued, his face as serious as Roisin had ever seen it. "The Dementors have joined Voldemort. The Patronus Charm is the first thing you need to teach people. If you have Muggle relatives, tell them how to recognize to presence of a Dementor, and to run away as fast as possible. Ron, Ginny, your eldest brother is a Curse-Breaker, right? Ask him if he knows anyone who can put up decent wards and let the rest of us know."

The meeting broke up, but Roisin stopped Harry from leaving. She knew that this was going to be difficult. He glared at her. "Why did you need to put me on the spot like that? Fudge and the Ministry did their best to destroy be all year, and you want me to play nice? You're putting me up as a figurehead!"

Very difficult. "No, I'm putting you up as a leader! The adults failed us miserably this year, and we had to look for new leaders. I led Slytherin, but you led the rest of the school! Like it or not, you became the leader we needed! I asked you to talk to the Ministry because you're the only one who can! _You_ spoke to the Press and gave them the full story. _You_ got the letters expressing support. TheMinistry is looking to Dumbledore, but everyone else is looking to _you_!"

Harry looked at her, overwhelmed and strangely vulnerable, and Roisin gentled, knowing that she was being hard. "I should have spoken to you beforehand, but we didn't have the chance, after Dumbledore abducted you as soon as Madam Pomfrey let you out. You can share the responsibility, but you're stuck with the role." She tried a smile, striking a melodramatic pose. "It is your destiny."

Roisin instantly knew that she had said something wrong, when Harry let out an almost hysterical laugh. _"Destiny?_ You have no idea how sick I am of that word! I was _destined_ to be an orphan, I am _destined_ to kill Voldemort, or have him kill me, I am _destined_ to be a hero, and it's the _last_ thing I want!"

That made absolutely no sense. "Um, what?"

Just as suddenly as he had burst into fury, Harry deflated. "It's a long story, and I don't want to tell it more than once. Can we talk on the train?"

Roisin nodded. "Of course." She hesitated. "But on the topic of talking, there's two more conversations you need to have, and you're not going to like either of them. Unfortunately, they are both very important."

Harry sighed. "I might as well get it over at once. It can't possibly be worse than what Dumbledore had to say."

They walked out of the Room of Requirement, and into another empty classroom, where Petunia Dursley was waiting, looking through a forgotten textbook. Having been awake for most of Petunia's confrontation with Dumbledore, Harry did have a number of questions. Deciding that this was one conversation that she probably shouldn't be around for, Roisin snuck out and went to find Draco for the other unpleasant discussion.

* * *

The two Slytherins returned just as Aunt and Nephew were finishing up, lurking just outside the door as they heard Petunia sigh. "I hated what you represented, and the danger your presence posed to my family. I hated the magical world that took my sister from me, and I hated not knowing what to do. Instead of admitting that I bore a certain amount of blame for the separation between Lily and myself, and not making a bigger effort, I became angry, and took it out on you. You have every reason to hate us, Harry, and I'm not proud of the way I've acted in the past, but you saved Dudley last summer, and you never blamed Roisin for our actions. I can't change the past, but I hope we can start again for the future."

It was a credit to Harry that he didn't outright refuse, but paused for a long moment. "I need to think about all of this, Aunt Petunia. Can I talk about it later?"

Petunia nodded. "Of course. I don't want to leave Roisin, but I need to get home and explain what happened to Vernon. I meant what I said in the Hospital Wing, though. If Dumbledore has any plans for you, he has to get through me and Black first. I don't believe in prophecy, and he'll need to come up with something a lot better than 'because I said so' if he wants to convince us."

Roisin's mother stood to leave, and the two Slytherins scrambled to look as though they had only arrived, and hadn't been eavesdropping. Harry might have believed it, but Petunia knew better, and gave them a stern look before kissing Roisin on the forehead. "I have to get home, but I'll meet you at the train station." She fixed Draco with another look. "Until she's cleared to use her arms normally, I expect you to assist her with whatever she needs, is that understood young man?"

Draco barely managed not to snap to attention. "Yes, ma'am."

Harry quickly hid a smirk as they entered. Roisin sat between them, bracing herself. "Draco has a few things he needs to say, so I'd appreciate if you at least tried to tolerate each other for the next ten minutes, since I'm physically incapable of separating you."

Draco paced for a bit, clearly struggling for words. "I don't even know where to start."

Roisin shrugged, and then winced as the motion pulled on a bruise and her healing arms. "An apology is always a good start. Alternatively, start at the beginning, and go on until the end, and then stop."

Draco completely missed the reference, but managed to pull himself together. "I wish to apologize for my actions, not only this year, but also prior. My conduct was unbecoming of the heir to an Ancient and Noble family. More than my pride, I need your help. After what happened at the Ministry – don't look surprised, everyone with a relative there knows the details, and the _Prophet_ article told everyone else by now – Mother thinks that the Dark Lord will do something to punish us for Father's failure. My parents might be aloof, but they love me, and I have no intention of serving someone who tortures his own followers for losing to someone that he himself has failed to kill more than once." He paused for a few moments. "Besides, there are rumours that the Dark Lord is no more than a half-blood, and I will not lower myself to serve that."

Roisin mentally rolled her eyes. Trust Draco to focus on Voldemort's blood status as a reason not to follow him, rather than the blatant hypocrisy of the fact. Even so, it was almost reassuring. Harry would have laughed in Draco's face if he tried to claim a sudden change of heart, but looking out for his family and the Malfoy name was much more believable.

She resumed paying attention to the conversation, where Draco looked as though the next words were physically painful. "We need your help or support, Potter, if I want to avoid being marked and sent on a suicide mission. I don't know what we can offer in exchange, but I trust Roisin, and she trusts you, so you're our best bet."

Whatever Harry had been expecting, that was quite clearly not it, and it took a while to answer. "We don't get along, Malfoy, and we probably never will, but I wouldn't leave any non-Death Eater to Voldemort's – oh, stop flinching! – Non-existent mercy. We'll try to figure out the details later, perhaps over the holidays? Get your mother to contact Sirius to set something up, since he's Head of the Black Family."

Draco nodded, looking very relieved. "We will. Thank you, Potter."

He left, and Harry gave Roisin a very plaintive look. "I'm really going to have to do this, aren't I? Do me a favour, and next time you say I'm not going to like something, remind me to ask for details!"

* * *

The Leaving Feast was very subdued, and people barely even cheered when the House Cup was awarded. After everything that had happened over the year, house points seemed fairly irrelevant. Plus, Slytherin was still on rocky ground, and lording victory over the rest of the school - a victory that was largely thanks to a biased Umbridge - was just asking for trouble.

Soon, trunks were packed, 'no-magic-over-the-holidays' reminders were handed out, and too many people jumped in surprise when they realized that they could see the Thestrals.

Roisin spent the first half of the train ride talking to other Slytherins about setting up safe houses, remembering that elves could transport their families in an emergency, and informing her First-Years that she didn't care how silly they thought it made them look, they still had to keep the DA Galleons with them at all times. She had no intention of one of them getting hurt or killed in an attack because they were too self-conscious to carry a means to call for back-up.

There were a few complaints about already having a mother, but they reluctantly agreed, and Roisin went looking for Harry.

He was in one of the larger compartments, along with several of the senior DA members. Roisin smiled to see that he and Parvati were holding hands as the Indian girl leaned against him. "You said there was something we needed to talk about?"

It seemed that more than one person had been expecting this, because they all sat up. Harry grimaced, but started talking. "You know that we went to the Department of Mysteries because I had a vision that Voldemort was there and captured Sirius. What none of us, not even me, knew until a few days ago is that Voldemort needed me to go there to retrieve a prophecy, apparently concerning the two of us. Dumbledore witnessed the prophecy first-hand, and told me about it after I got out of the Hospital Wing. I concerned Voldemort, and a child born at the end of the seventh month, from parents who had defied Voldemort three times."

Neville spluttered and turned a previously-undiscovered shade of white. "But that could mean – "

Harry shook his head. "It could have, but Voldemort marked me. You're as safe as any of us will be." Everyone deliberately didn't notice Neville's obvious relief, as Harry continued. "Boiled down, the prophecy said that either I kill Voldemort, or he kills me. This was never a game, but now it's really serious. The war has really started now, and you need to know about this."

There was a long moment of silence, before Hermione spoke. "We've been with you from the start, Harry, and we'll be with you until the end."

Ron would never have half of Hermione's eloquence, but he was no less loyal, even if he only nodded, his face as grave as Roisin had ever seen. Cedric leaned over to rest a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I won't be at Hogwarts next year, but I have faith in you, and I know you can do this."

Parvati gripped Harry's hand even tighter. "I knew what we were getting into, and I'm not backing out now."

Ginny shot her another killing glare, but joined the others in voicing their support. Squeezing between Hermione and Cedric, as the last available sliver of room, and inwardly smiling as Hermione moved onto Anthony's lap to give her room, Roisin felt something inside her relax.

Yes, the Wizarding World was about to be embroiled in another devastating war, but they would survive it, because they had each other.

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* * *

_A/N: Not the best ending for Year Five, but I did warn you that there would be big changes. Also a bit shorter than previous chapters, so sorry about that._

_To clarify events in the Hospital Wing, I am in no way excusing the Dursleys for how they treated Harry, but there is room for the blame to be shared out. Dumbledore 'Knew [he] was condemning [Harry] to ten dark and difficult years', which says a lot in itself. Raising babies is not easy, especially for first-time parents, and the sudden, unexpected addition of a traumatized fifteen-month-old, couldn't have helped. When I was upset or scared as a small child, I would find somewhere to hide until I felt better, so I can easily see Harry doing the same thing. At first, I see Vernon and Petunia trying to coax him out and maybe have him in the smallest bedroom from the start. But, Harry won't budge from the closet, and it is slowly starting to affect them that while living at Privet Drive might make Harry safe, it has put the rest of them – specifically, their beloved twin babies – in terrible danger._

_My twin and I had an argument shortly before she drowned, and it took me a long time to get over the fact that we never had a chance to apologize. I can see Petunia feeling the same way about the split between her and Lily. Petunia never mentions her sister, but the sudden knowledge that she is dead would hit hard. Not knowing how to deal with it, or the living reminder of Harry, this grief and confusion starts to manifest itself in anger and hostility._

_Also, the 'no-one came to check' part. Petunia was Lily's sister, so while she probably knew about things like Dragon Pox in passing, she didn't have the first clue about magical medicine or physiology. Harry arrives at 15-months-old, far too young for him to be able to explain anything, and as Muggles, the Dursleys had no way of contacting anyone to find out what to do about Magical Babies._

_Again, I'm not trying to excuse them, as their treatment was Neglect, Verbal and Emotional Abuse at best, but the Dursleys were thrown into the deep end with Harry, and they weren't the only ones to blame in the situation. Harry and the Dursleys are not going to be one big happy family, but I wanted to clear the air between them, like Harry and Dudley did in Deathly Hallows._

_Anyway, that is my take on the situation, and as always, you are free to disagree. You are also free to tell me so, with as much CAPS LOCK typed shouting as you like. Flames, however, will be ignored._

_Thanks, Nat_


	84. Leaving Home

_Disclaimer: Again? Really? Oh, fine… I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE**

Roisin's mother had picked her up from King's Cross, (Vernon still at work) where a slightly reluctant Justin Finch-Fletchly had been carrying her trunk, since her arms were still in a 'no-strenuous-activity-or-Madam-Pomfrey-does-something-creative' state. She dropped her off at Privet Drive, before going to pick Dudley up from St. James's Station, only saying that they needed to have a family meeting.

For a teenager, the term 'Family Meeting' was always greeted with some amount of trepidation, and a mental recounting not of what they had done to warrant it, but of what the parent or guardian had found out about. While Roisin was going over what had happened in the last few days since she had woken up to see her mother sitting my her bed in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, her mother had left again, abandoning her to the mercy of a cross House Elf. After fending off Winky's attempts to make her sit down and relax, Roisin had consented to holding still long enough for her arms to be covered with a vivid blue salve and re-bandaged, and was now pacing in the living room, waiting for her brother and parents to return. What on earth could they want to discuss?

* * *

When they returned, it was clear that Dudley had been filled in about what had happened at the end of term, as he actually hugged her before he hauled his trunk up to his room. Roisin barely managed to return the embrace, blinking in surprise, which only grew when her father did the same upon his return five minutes later.

By the time Roisin re-gained control of herself, Dudley had come back downstairs, and their mother led the family into the living room. Whatever scenarios Roisin had been thinking up, ranging from a lost job to hosting a party in order to maintain their neighbourhood standing or show Roisin and Dudley off, it didn't come close to the real topic.

They sat in silence for a while, before Roisin hesitantly spoke up, breaking the awkward silence brought on by no-one being quite sure what to say. "So, what has been going on? Why are we having a family meeting?"

Petunia sighed, reaching out and placing a hand on her daughter's knee. "That Ministry of yours sent out letters to all the families containing a w-witch or w-w-wizard…"

Roisin's father interjected, "and one of those government pamphlets that don't tell you anything you don't already know."

Roisin's mother gave him a Look for interrupting. "…warning us of this 'War' that just started up. Is it true?"

Oh, boy. Of all the things for Dumbledore to have left out when Petunia and assorted other parents were demanding answers. The Dursley family almost never spoke of the Wizarding World, though they had been warming up after Harry had used a spell to protect Dudley from Dementors last summer, and had actually shown interest in Roisin's day-to-day magical life, but whatever had been in that letter was sure to only have made things worse. "Yes. There's a psychopath running around who thinks that magical folk are superior and that anyone without magic is like dirt. He's the one that killed Aunt Lily and her husband. Plenty of people disagree, but the guy is powerful, and he has the support of powerful people."

Vernon nodded his understanding of what she was saying, and not saying, and gripped his son's shoulder in support. "We've decided that we're moving until this is over. The company offered me a promotion for an opening branch in France, and we've decided to take it. We leave on the 20th, and you're coming with us."

Roisin had been bracing herself for a 'magic-has-brought-too-much-trouble-we'll-have-no-part-in-it' declaration, and was cautiously pleased. "Are you sure? I thought you wanted to get away from magic."

Petunia sighed again, sorrow flickering in the clear grey eyes that she had passed to her daughter. "When the war started and Lily got caught up in it, I begged her to come away. We had our differences, and I was jealous and scared of her magic, but I never wanted to see her dead. This war, this psychopath, took my little sister. I won't let it take my daughter, as well."

Roisin took a deep breath. Despite their five-year estrangement and recent reconciliation, this was the hardest thing she had done so far. "I can't, Mum. This Wizarding psycho, he's like Hitler version 2.0. It's bigger than me, because if he wins, there's nowhere in the world that we'll be safe. I know you won't approve, but I have to stay."

Dudley opened his mouth to argue, but Roisin held up her hand. "I'm still underage for another nine months. The Ministry keeps an eye on underage kids, and if I go with you, they can track us as quick as anything."

Vernon frowned. "What do you plan to do, then? Because if you don't have a way to keep yourself safe, then we're taking you with us anyway, even if we have to tie you up, and damn the consequences!"

Roisin felt a warm glow in her chest, and took a chance, snuggling into her mother's side as she had when she was little girl. "The O'Conner Keep is warded to the heavens and back, and they're somehow upgrading even more. Same goes for Harry's Godfather's place, and I've got a few friends I can stay with in a pinch. I know you don't like it, but I can hold my own in a fight, too."

All three shot a pointed look at her bandaged arms in eerie synchronization. Roisin squirmed but rallied to defend herself. "Lucky shot and I'd been doing with barely a scratch for over an hour beforehand."

On second thought, that was perhaps not the smartest thing she could have said. That she had been taking care of herself for over an hour suggested that it had taken over an hour for any adults to get their act together, which would only make her parents dig their heels in. Roisin hastily tried to cover, with the sinking feeling that she was fooling no-one. "OK, so most of that hour was standing watch, but I can still take care of myself in a fight!"

It didn't work, and Roisin set herself up for a long debate.

* * *

Dumbledore had tried to make Harry go back to Privet Drive for the summer, an idea that Petunia had not put up an argument about, but Sirius had refused any such thing, and planned to whisk Harry away somewhere sunny for a few weeks, to get some time away before the War really kicked in. It was likely to be the only chance at a holiday that any of them would be getting for a while.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no one had told Dumbledore that little fact. As such, the letter from Dumbledore to the residents of 4 Privet Drive, saying that he would be by to collect Harry, came as a surprise to everyone. As the owl had flown off without waiting for a reply, and Roisin had never got around to purchasing one of her own, they didn't get the chance to reply before he showed up.

It was times like that when Roisin remembered why she didn't like dealing with the Headmaster, and wished that there was a law on at least trying to blend in when entering the Muggle world for any reason. Failing to say _when_ you planned to arrive, then showing up in the middle of the night, dressed in his usual over-the-top robes, was not a good way to endear yourself to the household.

A loud crack had a half-awake Roisin jolting upright from a doze, wand raised as she thanked various deities that she had been cleared as back to normal health two days prior, and that Harry had managed to talk the Ministry into relaxing the Underage Magic rule as long as it was a case of Self-Defence.

Unfortunately, hitting Headmaster Dumbledore with a Stunner was probably not going to be counted as Self-Defence, and probably accounted for at least part of his hostility when he was revived. Harry's absence probably had quite a bit to do with it as well, however, so Roisin had no intention of taking all of the blame for what happened next.

Roisin blamed the knock on the head for Dumbledore's memory lapse in how her mother responded to dismissive rudeness, though she would have expected the Headmaster to remember that it was considered good manners to introduce yourself and be polite when demanding to know the location of a clearly absent resident. She also maintained that none of the above were any excuse for the rest of the visit.

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment," Dumbledore said to Vernon, after Summoning a sofa and knocking him, Petunia and Dudley into a seated position. "But the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

Roisin, who had dodged the sofa by virtue of being already curled up in an armchair, in order to be comfortable where she had dozed off half-way through a late-night movie, was the first to admit that she was not an easy person to be around after being suddenly woken, easily annoyed and irritable. Even so, did Dumbledore have no manners? It was as though he were trying to antagonize them. If Dumbledore had shown up at a reasonable hour and with advance warning, then her mother probably would have offered tea, and possibly even cake, if only for the sake of normal manners and proving that Muggles were just as good as Wizards.

Showing up in the middle of the night, when most people were asleep, and Apparating directly into the living room, rather than waiting for someone to answer the door, on the other hand… She placed her hands on her hips and glared. "Yes, it would, especially because you showed up without warning in the middle of the night, and we couldn't prepare refreshment because we weren't expecting anyone. Also, Apparating in dressed like that? Since you consider this an acceptable hour to socialize, what would have happened if we had been entertaining normal, expected guests?"

Dumbledore ignored the small yet very important detail. "Very well, may I inquire as to the whereabouts of Mr Potter? I believe I mentioned that I would be collecting him and taking him to another secure location."

Fine, politeness was clearly on vacation, so Roisin wasn't going to bother with it, either. "I have no idea. Sirius only mentioned that he was taking him somewhere sunny for a few weeks. He took Harry straight from the station, so you'll have to ask him."

OK, so it was probably very wrong of her, but Roisin couldn't help feeling a small bit of vindictive pleasure when Dumbledore stared at them for a moment, before Disapparating away with a loud '_crack'_, somehow managing to leave a sense of annoyance in the air behind him.

* * *

Roisin's OWL Results arrived the next morning, at the same time as the Post bringing Dudley's GSDE Scores did. Roisin wasn't sure if it was the Dementor Attack, or the fact that her brother had to keep his grades up if he wanted to stay on the Boxing Team, but his marks had seriously improved, and there were even a few positive comments from the tutor he had been assigned.

Roisin's mother eyed the Hogwarts owl warily. "Ah, what do we do with this?"

Roisin tossed the owl a bit of bacon left over from the not-yet-cleared breakfast. "Just untie the letter, and hope that I don't collapse from nerves before I read it."

Dudley laughed, but it was at his sister's dry joke, rather than at Roisin herself. Vernon clapped her on the shoulder as Petunia removed the letter. "I'm sure you did fine, Roisin! What does it say?"

Roisin opened the letter with hands that were most certainly _not_ trembling, thank you very much! "Let's see… Ordinary Wizarding Levels Results… Pass Grades O, E and A… Fail Grades P, D and T. Roisin O'Conner has received…"

She was briefly interrupted. "Roisin O'Conner?"

Roisin shrugged. "I'm registered under the Clan name with the Ministry, for reasons unknown. It doesn't make sense to me, either. Now… two A's in History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures – Planned on dropping those anyway; I can't take another two years of Binns and Hagrid's idea of 'cuddly'. E's in Herbology, Transfiguration, Astronomy, and Charms – I'm _so _rubbing that in Desdemona's face, let's see how she did in silly Divination. O in Defence Against the Dark Arts – No surprises there, what with the DA last year; I wonder how everyone else did. And an O in Potions, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes!"

Petunia shrieked and hugged her, but all three looked faintly confused. "I take it that is a good result, but what does that mean overall? And what do the letters stand for?"

Roisin forcefully stopped herself from bouncing off the walls in glee. "The Pass grades are Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, and Acceptable. Fails are Poor, Dreadful and Troll. So, I got ten passes, four of them Outstanding, and no fails. History was probably a borderline 'P', though." She hesitated. "Or maybe not. They probably give points for actually finishing the exam and answering all of the questions."

Finishing the letter, and looking at the notes at the bottom, Roisin didn't quite stop herself from dancing with glee. The top five in each subject were privately notified of how they placed, and everyone was told how they did overall. Placed at nine out of forty-one overall, Roisin had come fifth in Arithmancy, fourth in Potions, and first in Ancient Runes! Hermione was going to be furious!

* * *

Finally, the 20th rolled around, the day that three-quarters of the Dursley family was due for a temporary move to France.

Roisin had spent the intervening days reminding herself that she couldn't leave while there were people depending on her, though it was becoming harder and harder each time. The final problem with alternate arrangements almost got rid of her resolve entirely.

The one thing that the Ministry Safety Pamphlet had done right was warn the populace not to travel anywhere alone, which presented a bit of a dilemma. The O'Conner clan was occupied, as every adult, on clan lands or otherwise, was in the middle of a gathering to discuss what they were going to do in regards to the war. They couldn't remain neutral, as Death Eaters had already taken two of their own, but they also remembered the tragedy that had occurred the last time that they were involved in large-scale fighting, when Fionna's family, and numerous others, had been all but wiped out by a bomb. A ward upgrade was also underway, which made travel difficult.

Similarly, the Senior members of the Order of the Phoenix were meeting with the Malfoy family, concerning what they were going to do. The Discussion between Harry and Draco had gone fairly well, but the fact remained that the Order were really the only ones actually doing anything or with any real information. Roisin didn't know many of the recent recruits, and trusted them even less, but she was still under orders from her Grandmother not to travel alone, and preferably with an adult witch or wizard, which cut down Roisin's available choices even more, as most of her friends were underage.

The other problem was finding an escort who wouldn't stand out horribly and re-traumatize her family. They hadn't had the best experiences with Wizards, after all, and Dumbledore's intrusion a few days ago had not helped. Hagrid meant well, but he wasn't the best example of manners, and while Mr Weasley was a good man, he went bonkers around anything Muggle, which tended to give off the wrong impression.

Actually, if you let him in a totally Muggle setting, unsupervised, Roisin gave it half an hour before someone had to come bail him out of jail for Damage of Public Property (seeing something like a fire-hydrant and trying to take it apart to see how it worked) or Disturbing the Peace (calling someone a Muggle to their face with his usual over-enthusiastic and slightly-condescending attitude). If Hagrid hadn't been too large for anyone to risk taking him on, it would have taken even less time for him to be arrested for the same thing, though the Damage charge would have been due to his size, and probably dropped.

Finally, she whacked herself on the head for not thinking of it sooner, and sent a quick message to Cedric.

Fortunately, Cedric turned out to be one of the few things Roisin didn't have to worry about. He arrived in a Muggle cab, wearing jeans, a button-down shirt, and a friendly smile. At her bedroom window, Roisin practically fainted with relief and darted downstairs as her mother opened the door.

"Mrs Dursley? It's good to see you again. Roisin asked if I could give her a lift, since you don't want her travelling alone. May I come in?"

Petunia actually liked Cedric, if only because he was polite, well-mannered, and didn't treat them like something on display. "Of course, dear, how have you been? Would you like some tea?"

Cedric shook his head politely. "No, thank you. Hi, Roisin, are you packed?"

Roisin smiled in return. "Yes, just let me grab my trunk from upstairs."

Winky was currently in France, arranging the Dursley's new House to her satisfaction, but she had made sure to help pack and box up everything, which the movers had taken yesterday, so the only things left out were the sleeping bags that the family had used last night, Roisin's trunk, and the carry-on luggage that the other three would be living out of for the next few days. Cedric followed her up, shrinking the trunk, so Roisin could simply tuck it into her purse, rather than drag it around.

Returning downstairs, the goodbyes were even harder than Roisin had been dreading.

Roisin's mother stroked her hair, whispering as if Roisin was a small child again. "If you change your mind, or if you get into any trouble, you write to us. Winky can get the message to us in minutes, and we'll get you on the first flight over."

Her father's hold was just as tight. "Remember, you're our daughter, and as fine a girl as any parent could ask for. Just call and we'll be there as soon as possible."

Encased between her parents, trying not to cry, Roisin watched as Dudley offered a hand to Cedric, as serious as she had ever seen him. "Take care of her, yeah?"

Cedric nodded, equally serious. "Of course. With any luck, you'll see each other again soon."

* * *

Cedric gripped Roisin's hand in silent support as they walked down Privet Drive to Magnolia Crescent. "So, you're staying at the Burrow for a bit?"

Roisin nodded. "Nana protested, but the wards are being upgraded, and no-one is going in or out until it's all finished."

Cedric looked faintly disapproving that someone would leave their family unprotected for something as simple as upgrading wards, but Roisin continued before he could comment. "I understand, of course. Some of those wards have been there since BCE, so they have to look up records on how they were installed and how they would react to an upgrade. I'm just as happy not taking chances."

There was common sense in that, so they changed the subject. "Do you want to stop at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch? Tom hasn't been getting much business lately, and we can get a bit of shopping done before the crowds."

That did sound nice, and Roisin always kept both Muggle and Wizard money with her for emergencies. Besides, with the war having officially started, the crowds were likely to be a nightmare once the school lists came out. Still… "You graduated last year; you don't have to go any further out of your way for me."

Cedric shrugged. "I need new robes, and there are a few non-Hogwarts books I want to get, not to mention that the Weasley Twins have their shop up and running. You'll never get my dad in there, though, so I'm not going to sneer at the chance."

Roisin laughed. "A Hufflepuff sneaking around and breaking rules, will wonders never cease? Do you think Tom is serving Shepard's pie today?"

* * *

Shepard's pie was today's special, as it turned out, and it was a sign of how bad business was that Tom even pretended not to notice when she accidentally tried to order a cola instead of Butterbeer.

Still, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon than a quiet talk with a friend over lunch, and Roisin wasn't quite up to the organized chaos of the Burrow just yet.

As they were waiting for their meals, Cedric finally broke the silence. "I didn't mention it last Christmas, but your parents seemed surprised at my being polite. Am I being rude in asking why?"

Roisin pulled a face. "My family's previous encounters with the Wizarding World consisted of Hagrid, who tends to scare strangers, and Mr Weasley, who is a bit too enthusiastic about the Muggle World. I know you respect him, but Dumbledore's behaviour when coming by to try and pick up Harry only made things worse."

That was clearly news to Cedric, though it made sense that Dumbledore wouldn't want it getting out, not the least because he had been accidentally dropped by a sixteen-year-old. Roisin sighed and recounted the event, pointing out that whatever the Dursley's faults in the whole thing; it had been unexpected company in the middle of the night, in clothing that couldn't have made things more uncomfortable if he'd tried.

Cedric blinked in shock when she finished. "Not to speak ill of the greatly respected, but did no-one teach the Headmaster common courtesy as a child? If anyone tried that at my home, they would have the House Elves throwing them out on their backside, and lucky if they didn't have something large and heavy hit them on the way!"

Winky nearly had, but since she was previously a Hogwarts elf, she hadn't been sure if it was her place to eject the Headmaster. Still, it was so nice to have another magical person agree with her on that. "I suppose Dumbledore is used to people bending over backward to accommodate him, no matter how impossible or unreasonable the demand."

* * *

It was hard to shop without a school list, and being constantly interrupted by disreputable witches and wizards selling 'good-luck charms' was very annoying, but as the book-sellers had to order the school texts in advance, all Roisin really needed to do was tell the clerk which subject she was planning to take. If she turned out not to have the marks to continue, she could always return them or loan them to someone else.

Knowing the Weasley Twins, Roisin wasn't sure whether to be excited or worried, and instinctively ducked when she entered the door. A giggle drew her attention to an employee with short blonde hair and a look of understanding sympathy. Roisin couldn't help grinning back, and wandered off to browse.

Roisin could, in fact, cast a shield charm, but there was no harm in taking precautions. Besides, she was in need of a new cloak, and the twins had clearly talked to someone with fashion sense, as the cloaks and gloves had been designed differently for men and women, and there were even ones with fancy embroidery for an extra three sickles.

"Like them?" A Weasley Twin had popped up without warning.

"GAH!" If she had any illusions that it would actually work, Roisin would have hexed a bell on both twins long ago. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Who came up with the designs, anyway? They're very good."

The twin grinned unrepentantly at having startled her. "Parvati Patil was one of our first customers. She asked if we had cloaks for the different genders, and we offered her twenty galleons store credit if she did the designs."

If there was one thing Roisin trusted, it was Parvati's fashion sense. She picked out a dark red one with a Celtic trim as Cedric joined them, holding a skivving snackbox, something called 'Instant Darkness Powder' and a few 'Patented Daydream Charms', which had a just-this-side-of-risqué picture of a 17th Century pirate and a swooning woman in an upper-class style dress. "You know that over-sixteens are probably entering their NEWT year and won't have time for these, right? And the love potions are probably borderline illegal?"

Fred-or-George shrugged. "Popular with the recently-Graduated, though, and the love potions only last 24 hours, give or take, depending on the person's metabolism."

That brought a very not-nice idea, and Roisin couldn't help herself. "Remind me that plotting to make Snape and Trelawney fall in love for a day is _wrong_ and behaviour totally unbecoming of a Prefect."

Both boys remained conspicuously silent.

* * *

It was getting late when they left Diagon Alley, headed for the Burrow, where they would be staying until the Order could make sure that Bellatrix LeStrange had no access to Grimmauld Place, after Mrs Malfoy had pointed out the security flaw.

Staggering off of the Knight Bus, Roisin suddenly stopped, looking pained. "I just remembered something. Is it too late to turn around and stay in a Muggle Motel?"

Cedric somehow managed to cover a surprised laugh. "Probably. What could prompt that idea?"

Roisin's pained expression grew. "Mrs Weasley doesn't believe in mixed sleeping arrangements. I'm going to be stuck in a cramped room with a human-sized mountain of books and Harry's most trigger-happy rabid fan-girl."

That was probably unfair to Ginny, but the two girls didn't get along, and didn't have the chance to interact enough to gain a more-informed opinion of each other. Roisin's limited experience with Ginny had been a few days in the Summer before her Second Year, when Ginny barely drew breath between questions about Harry Potter, and various 'assertive' moments over the previous school year. Ginny probably had any number of good points; Roisin just wasn't aware of them.

Cedric's sudden bout of coughing would have fooled no-one and Roisin least of all. "Hermione would be under the books, I suppose, but Ginny never seemed that bad to me."

Such a bad cough clearly warranted a good thump on the back before he choked, and Roisin would swear to anyone what asked that was the only reason she did it. "That's because you're a Hufflepuff and not Harry's closest relative. Specifically, Harry's closest relative who doesn't know or care what underwear he prefers, and wouldn't tell her even if I did. I may have also mentioned that I don't make a habit of managing his dating life, and if she didn't shut up, the words I put in for her would only be private because properly-raised ladies don't use that kind of language."

Cedric was spared a reply, as they had just reached the door of the Burrow. Cedric started on the chorus of _Queen'_s "We will rock you", looking as though he would really rather not, and it was Roisin's turn to hide a giggle, trying not to dance along. "Nice singing voice."

The response wasn't quite a glare, but it came close. "Can you imagine any Death Eater even knowing that song, much less singing it? It makes a good password."

Roisin hastily wiped the smirk off her face when the door flew open to reveal Mrs Weasley. "Oh, Roisin, dear! We weren't expecting you until later! Come in, and you too, dear."

The last was addressed to Cedric, who was not entirely comfortable with excessive affection from near-strangers, and had been trying to make a break for it. Both were hustled into the kitchen and seated before they really knew what was happening, where they were greeted by a surprising but familiar face. "Fleur!"

The ex-Triwizard Champion smiled at them. "Bonjour! Eet is good to see you both."

Roisin, after a bit of school-pride-based animosity, had gotten on quite well with the foreign students, and Cedric had at least respected his fellow Champion. "You as well, though I admit to being surprised. You've been well, I hope?"

Roisin thought that a brief shadow flickered across the older girl's face, but she could have been imagining things. "_Oui._ We will be sharing a room while you stay, so we will have time to talk and catch up."

Cedric seized the opening with both hands and a headlock. "Speaking of time, I'm expected home, before Dad tries to send out a search party."

Both girls smiled at him. "Good luck with that. Thanks again for picking me up and for not sending my family into hysterics."

Fortunately, no one else caught the slight barb, and Fleur picked up Roisin's shrunken trunk. "Come, I will show you our room."

Roisin was thoroughly relieved to have _someone _to talk about girly things with (being largely practical didn't mean she was _totally _disinterested, after all), and if Fleur was clueless about Muggle fashion, she was at least willing to listen as Roisin explained, without pulling faces when she thought Roisin wasn't looking. After a shared mini-rant comparing the lengths of mini-skirts and Obis, and how some people seemed unable to tell the difference, the subject turned to boys. "Are you still with that Italian boy of yours, Blaise, I think?"

Fleur couldn't have known, so Roisin didn't take offence. "Not since October last year. Apparently my blood isn't 'pure' enough for him, and enjoying Muggle literature is unacceptable in his worldview."

Fleur looked apologetic. "_Je suis desole._ I was unaware." The part-Veela cast around for a moment, then brightened a little. "You and Cedric seem to be getting along well."

Roisin couldn't stop herself from giggling at the suggestive tone. "Don't look too much into it. Cedric is a good man and a good friend, but I'm not looking for romance right now. What about you, anyone special?"

It was Fleur's turn to giggle. "Bill and I will be getting married next year! Zat is why I am at the Burrow; to spend some time getting to know his family."

Roisin squealed and hugged her, hoping that the action was not too forward. A wedding was always wonderful, especially during times where there was little to celebrate. Fleur smiled, but looked genuinely surprised that Roisin appeared happy for her. Perhaps that explained the shadow earlier. "I'm amazed that Mrs Weasley isn't throwing a party and bragging about it."

Fleur's smile fell. "She thinks that we are 'rushing into things', and does not say that she wishes her son had chosen another. Ginny does not like me, however I try, and ze Veela Allure is NOT my fault!"

Roisin had it on excellent authority that her own grandparents had known each other for all of four months before marrying. "I doubt that you are the only young couple doing so. As for Ginny, she is nasty to anyone she thinks of as competition. The girl is lucky that Harry didn't pay enough attention to her to even notice her behaviour. She's probably just jealous that she's not the most important girl in Bill's life anymore. It's not an uncommon reaction to changes in the family."

Fleur looked torn between disapproval and slight good cheer. "She is calling me 'Phlegm' and imitating me and acting like it is funny. I try ignoring her or being nice and the bigger person, and she claims I am a snob who treats her like she is three."

Roisin made a derisive sound. "Well, she is certainly acting like it! Honestly, 'Phlegm'? Could she be less mature?"

This was not starting out to be a good Holiday.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Ok, I am not trying to Ginny-Bash, but I think we can all agree that her general behaviour to nearly everyone except Harry in HBP, especially Fleur, was deplorable. If anyone I know had acted that way toward a guest, much less a sibling's fiancée, they would have been seriously punished and told in no uncertain terms to stop it or else. Fleur is spending time with Bill's family because she knows that it is important to him, and all Molly and Ginny can do is show that they don't think she is good enough and treat her like trash. Fleur might be a bit arrogant and self-centred, but no one deserves that kind of treatment. _

_Incidentally, I also posted my first '__Underworld'__ fic, so if anyone liked those movies, I'd love an opinion._

_Thanks, Nat_


	85. Summer Shinannigans

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Do I really need to keep saying this?_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER**

The holidays did not get better as they progressed.

Initially, Roisin had thought that Ginny was only calling Fleur the childish nickname every once in a while (the girl was nearing her Fifth-Year, after all), only to discover that Ginny was calling Fleur 'Phlegm' whenever the part-Veela was not around, and sometimes even to her face! Mrs Weasley did tell her to stop, but didn't sound very enthusiastic about it.

It was not helped by the fact that Fleur had finally become fed up with the passive-aggressive treatment and began to jibe back. Roisin couldn't blame her, naturally, but it was becoming very difficult not to take sides.

On the plus side, Harry and Sirius had returned, so they could go back to Grimmauld place, which, in turn, meant that everyone had to cut back on the insults if they didn't want to be sent home. Sirius was a lot less tolerant of Mrs Weasley after last year, and had informed her that she was not Harry's guardian, and that she was a guest in his home, so to kindly stop acting like the lady of the manor.

It would have gone better if he had not said this in front of Narcissa, who had been visiting to discuss something or other, and thoroughly approved of her cousin's attitude. Roisin had quickly escaped and penned a letter to Draco, organizing a get-together over the Holidays.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had also received their OWL scores, which caused even more commotion.

Harry had passed everything except Divination and History of Magic, receiving an A in Astronomy, an O in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and an EE in everything else. Ron had received almost the same, though his History of Magic was a P rather than a D, and he had received no Os.

Roisin had been correct about Hermione. Though she had come first overall, and received an O in every subject except Defence Against the Dark Arts (a high EE), Hermione was still furious about having come behind in not one, but two subjects. Harry had topped her in Defence Against the Dark Arts, though Ron had also achieved an EE, and Roisin had taken the prize in Ancient Runes. There were even rumours (thanks to a letter from Parvati, complaining that her twin hadn't shut up about it for days) that Padma had beaten or tied with her in Arithmancy.

To her credit, Hermione did try not to show how annoyed she was about her perfectionist streak falling short, but that didn't stop her from glaring at Roisin every chance she got.

Luckily, Roisin was used to ignoring people glaring at her, and Hermione had softened when she heard about Roisin sending her family away without her, for fear of their safety. She had been worried about her own parents, but had no way of convincing them to do anything without admitting exactly what had happened during her years of Hogwarts, which she had been playing down over the years. Hermione had no desire to be removed from Hogwarts and her friends, and was under no illusions that her parents would do exactly that if they knew the full extent of things.

* * *

Ernie MacMillan hosted a DA meeting at his house, his parents having gained an exemption for Underage Magic use in order to conduct a 'tutoring session'. While waiting for the stragglers to arrive, everyone pretended not to notice Harry and Parvati disappearing together for several minutes, or that Hermione and Anthony didn't need to be _quite_ that close for her to correct his wand movements.

Desdemona and several of the boys had gone into synchronized coughing fits at the phrasing, and been whacked by whoever was nearest.

Aside from practising, they also compared notes of what had been going on. Roisin had been somewhat out of the loop, but Mrs MacMillan heard things from her Society Acquaintances, Parvati and Lavender from her fellow gossips (who were a few years away from being old enough to be called 'Society Acquaintances'), Cho's parents from their Merchant Contacts, and everyone else read the paper.

There had been Dementor attacks, but a lot less severe than anticipated. In fact, many of the stories reported the opposite; thanks to the DA teaching everyone they knew how to cast a Patronus, several of the Dementor attacks had been repelled with no casualties. Former-Headmaster Karkaroff had also been found, or rather, his body had been found, in a shack up north. The only real surprise in this was that he had managed to stay alive so long, as no-one likes an informant, and Voldemort would have made Karkaroff's death a top priority, before he had the chance to spill any more sensitive information.

A joint Birthday Party was thrown for Harry and Neville, hosted at Longbottom Manor, a far lighter and more enjoyable gathering for the DA and assorted others.

Roisin had also been invited to visit Desdemona, supposedly for tea, but really for a strategy session. Perhaps she should not have been surprised to find out that Greg and Vince were staying with Draco on a more permanent basis, or that Pansy had moved in with Desdemona for the foreseeable future. Apparently, their parents had been surprised and displeased when they demanded that their children take the Dark Mark, and had been summarily told where to shove it.

Roisin was surprised, too, but rather more pleasantly so.

It was good news to take back home, and Roisin was very careful not to treat any of them differently than usual. Breaking with your family would be hard enough for them, without being treated like delicate porcelain on top of it all. She settled for saying that she would help to hex anyone who tried to make a negative issue of things.

* * *

A Diagon Alley trip was arranged for the next Saturday, after the School letters arrived, though Ron had nearly been banned by his mother from going after making an ill-timed joke about Voldemort hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts.

The letters had arrived when Roisin was sleeping over at Desdemona's house, meaning that she was also stuck listening to the cheers when they found out that Draco had been named Slytherin Quidditch Captain, as the most senior of the remaining three Team Members. Harry, as Roisin found out upon her return to Grimmauld Place, had been given the same honour, though in his case, Katie Bell had seniority. Hermione had been very pleased about this, as it now put the Trio on equal footing in regards to status, which had been lacking while Ron and Hermione had been Prefects.

Breakfast was slightly tense on Saturday, though Mrs Weasley had not made any more snappish remarks about people staying behind. Bill and Fleur would be taking advantage of the nearly-empty house, but passed out bags of money to those who had Gringotts vaults at the table.

Ron's eyes widened at once when Bill passed one to Harry. "Where's mine?"

"That's already Harry's, idiot," was his brother's reply. "I got it out of your vault for you, Harry, because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his… well; trust me, this way's easier."

Roisin forced away the mental image. Well, that solved the mystery of why Theo had looked so pale after he had gone to Gringotts to withdraw some money earlier on the aforementioned day, so as not to waste time when they actually went shopping.

Ignorant of her thoughts, Harry pocketed the gold, "Thanks, Bill."

"'E is always so thoughtful," purred Fleur, stroking her fiancé's nose adoringly. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cornflakes, but was loftily ignored, except for a disapproving scowl from her eldest brother.

* * *

It was a cloudy, overcast day, but a couple of Ministry cars were far more comfortable and secure than the Knight Bus. Mr and Mrs Weasley were up front, while Harry and Roisin sat across from Ron, Ginny and Hermione in the back seats. Ron stretched out his long legs as soon as they sat down. "It's good Dad can get us these again."

"Don't get too used to it, it's only because of Harry," Mr Weasley called from the front seat. "He's been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron, too."

That led to a slightly uncomfortable silence in the back. Roisin broke it with a shrug. "Look on the bright side: you were going to be surrounded with a battalion of DA members anyway, so a few Aurors won't make much more of a crowd."

A few of the DA members had already made their trip, but about half, notably including Parvati, Anthony and Cedric, had promised to meet up with them. Roisin was willing to bet that it had something to do with Cedric's desire to get into Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes again.

They arrived in a surprisingly short time. "Here you are then," said the driver, as he slowed in Charring Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"

Mr Weasley opened the door. "A couple of hours, I expect. Ah, good, he's here!"

'He' turned out to be Hagrid, which was admittedly preferable to a group of Aurors, though no less attention-grabbing. Still, few people were willing to mess with a half-giant, especially after tales of what had happened when the Ministry had tried to arrest him made their vastly overblown way into the general populace.

The Leaky Cauldron was almost empty, as it had been when Cedric and Roisin stopped by on their way to the Burrow, and Tom looked up hopefully, his face falling again as Hagrid shook his head importantly, "Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh understand. Hogwarts business, yeh know."

Tom nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses, while the others proceeded through to Diagon Alley.

Unlike Roisin's last visit, when the Alley had been empty enough that she didn't need to stop to look at the scenery while attempting to advance even a few feet, the crowds that filled it today forced them to move slower, and Roisin looked around in closer detail.

There were still a few colourful, glittering window displays, but most of them were now hidden behind large Ministry of Magic posters. Many of the posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry Pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose.

Spotting Draco and Narcissa standing sadly in front of a poster of Lucius Malfoy, Roisin fought her way over, placing a hand on his arm. "Hey. Are the others here yet?"

Draco still had his pride, if he didn't have much else these days, and she wasn't going to draw extra attention to him. Draco jerked out of his daze, waving to where the others were standing at a stall not far away, also pretending not to notice what Draco had been doing. "Hey, Roisin," his gaze wandered over the rest of them, including the DA members who were making their way toward the Order group. "Wow, everyone is really out in force right now."

Roisin grinned. "Yeah, I guess everyone wants to get it over with without being grabbed by one of the stall-holders. Where are we bound first?"

There was no way that everyone was going to fit in one shop at the same time, so they split up. Mrs Malfoy led the Slytherins, accompanied by Cedric, Terry and Susan to Twilfitt and Tatting's, rather than Madam Malkin's; with the statement that she wanted to get them fitted sometime that day. She had a point, as Madam Malkin's was the designated robe shop for most people, and the crowds suggested a very long wait for service, but Draco also confided (out of his mother's hearing range) that she had been in a very depressed mood and was indulging in Retail Therapy. Another factor was the fear that Madam Malkin, like some other merchants, would refuse to sell to the children of known Death Eaters, but Twilfitt and Tatting's sold to anyone who had the money to afford it.

After the fittings, and arranging a date for someone's House Elf to come and collect the finished robes, they braved the crowds again for visits to the Apocathary, Flourish and Blott's, and the pet store, before heading to WWW, which no-one intended to miss.

* * *

Roisin was less shocked the second time around, though she skidded to a halt at a new poster in the window. Other reactions were mixed, a combination of spluttering, laughter, stunned silence, and a weak moan from Terry. "I admire the gall, but those two are looking to be murdered in their beds."

Narcissa wore what was probably her first smile in a long time. "Oh, I don't know. You don't put up something like that unless you have some way to protect yourself against those who might take offence. One of those Swamps or a few booby traps should do the trick."

The poster was purple, emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

_Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?_

_You SHOULD Be Worrying About_

_U-NO-POO –_

_The Constipation Sensation That's Gripping The Nation!_

Cedric was grinning as he looked at the crowds inside. "I could use one of those for my boss; keep him out of everyone's hair for a bit. Let's get inside before they sell out."

Inside, Roisin spotted Parvati proudly showing off her Shield Cloak designs to Harry, the display now marked as sold out and taking orders, and he was looking genuinely impressed, while Hermione and several Ravenclaws were gathered around boxes of quills, labelled as Self-Inking, Spell-Checking or Smart-Answer varieties.

Making a note to get a few of those, Roisin spotted a large group of ten- and eleven-year-olds clustered around a small wooden man who was climbing a gallows '_The Reusable Hangman – Spell It Or He'll Swing!'_

Well, that would certainly be a hit, and second-hand books sold better if they weren't covered in old games of Hangman. Hangman was already the unofficial pastime for most History of Magic students, and Binns wouldn't notice if the games suddenly turned three-dimensional.

Roisin stumbled slightly as the passed the Patented Daydream Charms, totally unashamed, as most people had done the same upon seeing the labels, some of which had become even more risqué. The latest seemed to be an Egyptian dancing girl clad in a mist-linen sheath and a few strings of beads, and a medieval noblewoman captured in the arms of a barbarian of some nationality.

Cedric caught Roisin before she fell, jokingly dipping her into a similar pose, but nearly dropped her again when a passing eight-year-old asked if they were part of the display. Given the outside atmosphere of Gloom and Doom, a blushing Roisin decided not to hex their laughing companions. Revenge was best served lukewarm, after all.

Mrs Malfoy made a spluttering noise as they passed the Edible Dark Marks, knowing better than most how Voldemort was likely to react. From the brief flash of disappointment, it seemed as though she regretted not being able to carry the news herself, if only to see the Dark Lord's face when he found out.

There was another mixed reaction when they came upon a cage filled with balls of fluff in pink and purple, rolling around and squeaking. The sign indicated that they were pygmy-puffs, a miniature breed of puffskien. Pansy and Desdemona cooed, and Roisin admitted that there were worse things to keep as pets, but Millicent and the boys edged away as fast as they could without running at the sight of them.

Seized by a sense of mischief, Roisin lifted one out and extended it toward Draco, who recoiled as if she had tried to hand him a baby Nundu. "Get that thing away from me!"

It was the wrong thing to say, especially with Pansy standing right there and already fishing for her money pouch. Said girl gave an evil grin as she lifted a pygmy-puff out of the cage and went to pay for it. Draco waited until she was out of sight before glaring at Roisin, who smirked and ignored him as she placed the pygmy-puff she was holding back in the cage.

* * *

The wards at the O'Conner Keep were fixed and upgraded, which meant that Roisin could spend the last few days of the holidays there, before Port keying to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on the morning of September 1st.

It was a bit of a relief, to be honest. Grimmauld Place had been vastly improved from last summer, but it was still crowded with the Weasleys and with the Order dropping in and out all of the time. Also, it was under the Fidelius Charm, which meant that everyone still attending Hogwarts had to relocate back to the Burrow so that the Ministry Cars could find the address to pick them up in the morning.

Roisin had enjoyed the time she spend with Fleur, but as she seemed to be the only one aside from Fleur and Bill who was genuinely interested in the Wedding, it became rather exhausting when she, in absence of anyone else, was asked for opinions on flowers, dresses, menus, guests and everything else under the sun. It was like shopping with Pansy and Desdemona before a party of after someone had fed Desdemona sugar or caffeine.

* * *

It was good to see her friends again, even if they had only been apart a few days, having held another DA meeting and subsequent Slytherin Meeting before she left for the Keep. Unfortunately, they only had time for a quick greeting before Roisin and Draco had to leave for Prefect Patrol, which, unlike last year, did not involve just walking up and down and making sure no one was fighting.

With the Ministry no longer sticking its head in the sand, security was beefed up, which meant that they had to talk to the Aurors who were helping to guard the place, and look into every compartment.

This was not made easier by the fact that Roisin had been mentioned in the Battle of the Ministry, which meant that she had to fight her way through crowds of people who wanted to catch a glimpse of her, or people who wanted to get a look at Harry. Finally, Roisin pulled her wand. "If you don't have a valid, important reason to gawk at me or be loitering in the hall, I want everyone back in their compartments and not clogging up the corridor! The same goes for Harry or anyone else who was at the Ministry! Other people need to walk through here, now beat it!"

The hallway cleared with reasonable speed, and Roisin continued her patrol, encountering Luna and Neville not long after. She didn't have time for more than a wave and a quick hello before her attention was diverted by a commotion in the next car, and she had to rush off.

With the number of times it happened, Roisin wondered if Ginny went out of her way to spoil Roisin's good mood, or if it really was just a coincidence. "What is going on here?"

Zacharias Smith was trying to fend off what looked like oversized flying snot with wings, while the youngest Weasley stood back and smirked. Roisin waved her wand in the fallen boy's direction. "_Finite Incantium"_ she fixed Ginny with a glare. "I don't like repeating myself: what happened here?"

Ginny shrugged, looking supremely unconcerned that Zacharias might have been seriously hurt. There wasn't a lot of room in the corridor, and the flying bogies made it hard to see. Even if they inflicted no harm in and of themselves, it would be easy for Smith to overbalance and hit his head on a door or floor. Head wounds were nasty, and with the way Ginny seemed to be enjoying herself, Roisin doubted that an adult would have been informed.

Ginny might not have cared, but Roisin had spent a very long time perfecting her glare, and very few people (read: those who _knew_ for a fact that Roisin _wouldn't_ do something unspeakably horrible if not obeyed) stood up to it for long. "He wouldn't stop asking about what happened at the Department of Mysteries, and I got fed up with it."

"And that's a good enough reason to hex people, I suppose?" Smith had been in the Hospital Wing for some reason that Roisin didn't know about during the Ministry battle, and (according to Cedric) his parents had spent the summer dragging him all over Europe looking at alternate schooling arrangements. Apparently, it had taken weeks of arguing to make them let him come back this year. Roisin reached down to help Zach up. "At least you had the guts to actually ask, rather than spread rumours. Can I ask for your support when I speak to Professors Sprout and McGonagall about this?"

Ginny huffed. "I'm a Prefect; I'm allowed to hand out punishment!"

Roisin narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you missed it, but so am I, and 'punishment' means points or detentions! Randomly hexing people is the kind of thing that makes you lose your badge."

She stalked off before Ginny could respond, wanting to get Smith taken care of and to finish her patrol before she had to attend Slughorn's little 'get-together'.

* * *

Roisin knew that accepting Professor Slughorn's invitation was a bad idea, but there wasn't much of a choice. If he took an interest in you, Slughorn's connections made him either a very good friend or a very bad enemy, and she couldn't turn him down without a very good reason. At least, a better reason than 'I wanted to spend the trip with people I actually like'.

She arrived late, having helped Smith to a compartment of fellow Hufflepuffs and explaining what had happened (she really didn't want to be Ginny when this story spread; Hufflepuffs on their own weren't much of a threat, but Hufflepuffs as a group were scary), and then found an Auror to report what happened and see about some field medical attention, just in case. Then she had all but tripped over Lucinda and Jia Li, and spent the next five minutes trying to escape their chattering questions about how her summer had been. Maybe the less-approachable prefects had been onto something, after all.

She slipped into the compartment where the new Professor was holding court. "Sorry I'm late. Certain circumstances required the intervention of a Prefect."

Slughorn waved a hand dismissively. "Of course… business before pleasure. Very admirable of you, taking your position so seriously. A good attitude like that's the best way to get ahead, I always say…"

Roisin smiled politely as she looked around. Harry and Neville were there, as was Ginny, Blaise, and Cormac McLaggen, along with a few others that Roisin wasn't sure about.

She could guess why most of them were there. Cormac, for all that he was a puffed-up idiot, was the great-nephew of Tiberius Ogden, and the new Minister of Magic was a family friend. Blaise had a famously beautiful mother, who had been compared favourably to Helen of Troy, although that line of thought led somewhere disturbing. Neville was from a very old House, and no-one who enjoyed living got on the wrong side of Augusta Longbottom. Add in the Department of Mysteries fiasco, and Neville became a very good person to have on your list of friends.

Harry, the Boy Who Lived, needed no explanation, but Ginny was a surprise. "Why and how did you get here?"

Ginny glared at her, obviously not over (or ashamed of) the earlier incident with Smith. "Apparently not everyone thinks that my bat-bogey hex is a bad thing."

Oh, lovely, now she was going to get the impression that attacking people would be encouraged and that being a Prefect gave her licence to do whatever she liked. "You keep that in mind when you get blasted every time a Hufflepuff walks past, and you can't put all of them in detention without resulting in an inquiry from the School Board."

Luckily for both girls, Slughorn interrupted, though it didn't take long for even the slowest of those present to pick up that he was networking, and Slughorn had barely turned away to talk to Cormac McLaggen before Roisin had her fake Galleon out and was contacting her now-Second-Years for back-up.

* * *

It still seemed like forever, but was only about ten minutes, before there was a knock at the door, and Lisbeth and Richard stuck their heads in. "Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but can you excuse Prefect O'Conner? It's really important."

Roisin was out of her chair and halfway through the door before Slughorn could inquire any further. "Thank you for the invitation, Professor, but duty calls."

They made it out of hearing range before Richard asked the inevitable question. "What is it that was so important, Prefect-Mummy?"

They had provided an escape, so Roisin managed to tone down the glare. "Getting me out of there before I hexed someone and ruined all of my future prospects. And what have I told you about calling me that?"

They had arrived at the Second-Years' somewhat cramped compartment by that time, so it wasn't just Lisbeth and Richard who chorused the reply. "Not to?"

Roisin gave it up as a lost cause. "I'll talk to you at the Feast tonight. Try to stay out of trouble until then, please."

She continued down to where Desdemona and the others were sitting in another compartment, and happily spend the rest of the journey there, where the most strenuous problem was limiting Desdemona's sweet intake and, when that failed, threatening to use a sticking hex if she didn't sit down and stop bouncing off of the walls.

The School Year had begun.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Next chapter up, and I'd love to hear what you all think._

_To Ginny-Supporters: maybe I'm old-fashioned, or maybe it's just my upbringing, but I do not excuse Ginny hexing Smith for asking questions, no matter how persistent he was. Walk away, or go into a compartment and shut the door, or just tell him to go annoy/ask someone else. _

_You are all free to disagree with that, but it's my take on things. I welcome all criticisms._

_Thanks, Nat_


	86. Year Six, Day One

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Can I stop repeating myself now?_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE**

They were nearly at Hogwarts when Blaise returned, looking thoroughly relieved to be away from Slughorn and muttering darkly about Ginny Weasley calling him a poser. As Roisin knew very well that her ex-boyfriend was perfectly capable of backing up his superior attitude, and, like Roisin, merely didn't get along well with people he didn't know personally, she chose not to respond. "Finally got away, did you?"

Blaise gave her a sour look. "Don't sound so amused, Rose. You couldn't have taken me with you when the Second-Years got you out?"

Roisin grinned. The two of them were cautiously rebuilding their friendship, but it was still uncomfortable at times. "Someone needed to stick around to get Slughorn's measure, and I hadn't planned for rescuing anyone else. Besides, you wouldn't have been able to claim Prefect responsibilities."

Blaise flopped down next to Theo, lacking his usual grace, which made Draco smirk from where he was lying with his head in Pansy's lap, as the girl stroked his hair. All had been under a certain amount of pressure, after Theo joined the ranks of Death Eater children seeking sanctuary with a friend, so no-one begrudged Draco taking up two seats, since it was the two seats squished next to the door-side corner of the carriage. Roisin handed him a pumpkin pastie, slightly more substantial that the chocolate frog that he had quickly confiscated off Desdemona, who pouted at him.

The mood was ruined when Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder suddenly detonated in the carriage, resulting in much swearing from the other compartments, and at least three people fell off their seats. Millicent accidentally knocked into Roisin, who squawked as she was knocked off her seat to where Vince had been reading a comic, and landed on by someone heavy.

When the powder was cleared away enough for people to see again, the heavy person turned out Blaise, who had also been thrown when Theo grabbed for Desdemona to stop her falling off her seat in his lap. Of course, Desdemona nearly toppled off anyway, when Theo realized that he had accidentally grabbed something soft that he shouldn't have and snatched his hands away, blushing furiously.

Wanting to get up before someone walked in on the compromising position, Roisin lifted an eyebrow. "Whenever you feel like moving, Blaise…?"

The Italian boy also blushed, scrambling up from where he had landed face-down on her ribcage, and they regained their original seating arrangements, mutually deciding to pretend that nothing had happened.

Draco, as one of the few who hadn't been flung about, sniggered as he switched places with Pansy, absently playing with her long hair. "So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?"

Blaise didn't sound very impressed. "Just trying to make up to well-connected people, not that he could find many. The man drops names like- like rain in a sun-shower! I think he heard that Mother and her current husband were leaning toward a divorce and was hoping for a connection. At least this time the separation is by mutual agreement."

That Slughorn managed to inspire such emotion was impressive, and the impression that Roisin had gathered before she made her escape. "I couldn't decide if he was a sycophant or a web-master."

Draco frowned. "Who else had he invited?"

Blaise started to list off names. "McLaggen from Gryffindor, someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw, me and Roisin, obviously, and Longbottom, Potter and the Weasley girl. Belby's uncle invented the Wolfsbane potion, but he made the mistake of saying that his father and uncle don't get on, so I doubt he'll be invited back again."

Draco frowned. "I understand them, you and Potter, but what do Weasley and Longbottom have to do with it? What's so special about them?"

Roisin shrugged. "Neville's parents were fairly notable Aurors, though it's rather tactless to bring that up, and he saw Ginny hexing Smith for asking her what the hell had been happening while he was away. Apparently he thought it was impressive. I probably got invited to butter Harry up."

Pansy watched Draco out of the corner of her eye, trying to lighten the mood, but failing. "A lot of boys like her, especially after the rumours about how fast she moved from Corner to Thomas – " Pansy caught Roisin's disapproving look, " – hey, I didn't start them, and it was only a week between boyfriends. Most people wait at least a fortnight, unless they're looking for a rebound! Even you think she's good-looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!"

Blaise scowled at her for the attempted redirection. "I have standards and Mother has expectations, why does everyone think that makes me asexual? I dated Roisin for two years and don't feel like jumping in the deep-end again, that's all."

Greg smirked. "And most of Hogwarts thinks that you're a right bastard for breaking up with her over not being a pureblood, remember – OW!"

Roisin had punched him. "What else did he say? Do we need to worry about being asked to another party again?"

Blaise shrugged. "You and I might; McLaggen mentioned your gift with crafting rune-spells. Everyone else, I don't know. He asked me about Theo's father when I first arrived, wanted to know if I knew if he'd been one of those caught by the Ministry. I said that he had, but Theo had run away rather than be associated with Voldemort, like most of us did. He seemed interested."

Theo scowled and muttered something rude about busybodies who couldn't keep their noses out of other people's home life, but Draco pointed out of the window before he could repeat it loud enough for the rest of them to understand. "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

There was a slightly awkward silence before Millicent conjured a curtain through the middle of the compartment, shoving Greg through to the other side. "You change there, we'll change here."

Thanks to seating arrangements, Roisin was still with the boys. "You mind letting me through, as well, Millie? Or at least throwing up another curtain?"

Draco waved a dismissive hand. "You're like my little sister, Roisin, what's the issue? OW!"

Roisin punched him, too, but not so hard. "I'm three months older than you, idiot, and I'm still not changing in front of you. Whoever is on the other side of the curtain, move over."

* * *

The journey in the Thestral-drawn carriages was uneventful, except for hearing Filch muttering about the extra trouble of having Aurors search for contraband as they passed through the gates.

Peeves was thankfully absent, rather than causing trouble in the Entrance Hall, and the Second-Years had managed to behave, though Roisin resolved to keep an eye out for whatever they were whispering over.

The new First-Years trooped in after Professor McGonagall, lining up in front of the Teacher's Table. From the indignant looks on their faces, Roisin was willing to bet that a few older siblings had been having fun at their expense with the usual dramatic Sorting Fables. Hopefully they had come up with something more original than wrestling trolls by now. She exchanged a look with the Seventh-Year Prefect, Ophelia, both bracing themselves for another talk about traumatizing innocent First-Years when they reached the Common Room.

But the Sorting was odd this year, too.

_With Ambition comes courage, to reach for a goal,  
__Loyalty needs bravery, with your friends to stand tall.  
__Great Wisdom is nothing, without the daring to speak,  
__Together you stand strong, but alone become weak._

_Hufflepuffs are Loyal, and work hard to the last,  
__But Gryffindor Courage always helps you stand fast.  
__With Ravenclaw Intellect, your Ideas are made Alive,  
__And Slytherin Ambition gives a direction to strive._

_Ravenclaws are wise, and seek knowledge and learning,  
__But Intellect falls short, without Hufflepuff hard-working.  
__Gryffindor Strength helps you challenge what's believed,  
__And Slytherin Ambition brings the drive to achieve._

_Gryffindors are Bold, and Great Adventures they seek,  
__But it's with Hufflepuff Persistence that they reach the peak.  
__Ravenclaw's Wisdom lets them see through Enemy's Wiles,  
__And Slytherin Cunning helps them pass through the Trials._

_Slytherins aim high, and reach their goals through any means,  
__And with Hufflepuff's work-ethic it becomes more than Dreams.  
__Gryffindor Bravery will set their feet on the right path,  
__And Ravenclaw Knowledge helps them get there at last._

_When the four Houses unite, they can achieve anything,  
__But Inter-House Spite and Discord, only ruin will bring.  
__From outside threatens, and Unite Hogwarts must,  
__For if we stay Divided, we become ashes and dust._

_Students hear my warning, Professors hear my cry  
__Together we stand and live, Alone we fall and die.  
__New Students and Old, we are all gathered hence,  
__A new year to greet… let the Sorting Commence!_

Each House still cheered when a student was sorted into their ranks,

While the usual topics of conversation at the Welcoming Feast were usually catching up with friends after the summer and what classes might be like that year, this time it was about the Sorting Hat's song, which even the First-Years could tell (by the older student's reactions) was unusual.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up, and conversation died away almost instantly. "The very best of evenings to you! Now… to our new students, welcome; to our old students, welcome back. Another year full of Magical Education awaits you, and Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys Wizard Wheezes."

Roisin rolled her eyes, leaning over to Desdemona. "He doesn't actually think that's going to work, does he?"

Blaise shook his head. "Not with the way their shop was filling up when we went to Diagon Alley. Do you think you'll be able to impose a ban to at least keep it out of the Common Room?"

Roisin winced at the very idea of a Portable Swamp or Peruvian Darkness Powder filling the Slytherin Common Room. "I'll do my best."

They turned back to Dumbledore's speech. "Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch Commentators, who should do likewise.

We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master."

Whispers broke out over the Hall. Slughorn as Potions Master? But Snape was also at the Staff Table, and no-one thought that he would take to being supplanted well. No matter how unpopular he might be with everyone, even his own House, after last year, it would be strange to be taught by anyone else. What was going on?

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Dumbledore had to raise his voice to be heard over all of the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

That caused even more ripples of shock. Snape as DADA Professor? All right, maybe it was a good thing that he would almost certainly be gone by the end of the year, but that still meant a year of uncertainty. After over a decade of trying to get the job, would he be too pleased to focus on teaching them? Snape had a well-earned reputation for knowing what he was doing as far as curses went, so did they really want him teaching them? What if he took the same approach as the false Mad-Eye Moody?

Most of the Hall was notably still at the announcement, aside from whispering. The only real reaction was an obviously obligatory smatter of applause coming from the Slytherin Table, which quickly died down when the rest of the House glared at those cheering.

It took a while for the whispers to die down, even after a loud throat clearing from the Headmaster, who waited a few more moments to make sure he had their undivided attention. "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers and once more at large and gaining in strength. I cannot emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside of the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and each other's safety.

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say goodnight. Pip pip!"

There was a loud scraping of chairs as people stood up. Mercrutio, Desdemona's younger brother who was now a Prefect, could be heard calling for the First-Years to follow him. Draco exchanged a look with Roisin. "Meeting in the Head Girl's room? I think we need to come up with a list of rules for the House."

Roisin nodded. "I'll tell Ophelia and Dimitri, you get the Fifth-Years once they're done with the Firsties."

* * *

The emergency meeting didn't take long, and the Fifth-Years had taken a leaf out of Roisin and Draco's book by telling the First-Years to meet them in the Common Room before breakfast, so all they had to do was agree on the extra rules, and on who was stuck giving the speech. The last part was determined by the age old method of drawing straws, which resulted in Roisin sulking upstairs muttering about why she got stuck with all the dirty work.

Nevertheless, she was up, dressed and waiting with the Fifth-Years the next morning, slightly cheered at the fact that she had made it out before Desdemona decided to wake the rest of the House up with a Cannon-bang Charm.

When the First-Years had gathered, she climbed up on a small side-table. "All right, listen up. You heard Dumbledore's speech last night, so I won't repeat it, but there are a few extra things I want to say, so pay attention."

They did so, as did a few students who had somehow decided that the first day was a good time to be a slow riser. Roisin took a deep breath and continued. "For various reasons, people tend to automatically suspect Slytherin, not the least because the Dark Lord that Dumbledore spoke of came from our House. We can't do anything about other people's ignorance, but we can prove ourselves to be above that. Previously, fighting was met with a blind eye. This will no longer be the case, and if we find out about any of you starting a fight, you will be in even more trouble than whatever the original penalty from whoever caught you. If you can, walk away. If you cannot, defend yourself and yell for help. It is harder for your attackers to justify themselves if you use only defensive spells, which your prefects will be teaching you later."

She ignored the hastily aborted protest from the Fifth-Year Prefects, and the yelps as they were elbowed by nearby Housemates. "Our Head of House will favour you, but that is not necessarily a good thing. Most of you will have heard of Dolores Umbridge last year. What you will not have heard is that despite Professor Snape favouring us, he also left us outnumbered and alone with a known sadist with the authority to do whatever she liked, because he wanted to leave a student from another house at her dubious mercy. Do not draw undue attention, avoid being called up for demonstrations in class, and come to any of the Prefects if you need help. If we cannot help, we will talk to those who can."

They would need to get to breakfast if they wanted to get their schedules, especially the Sixth-Years, who needed to confirm that they had passed their OWLs with the necessary marks to continue with their chosen subjects. "The Fifth-Year Prefects will be showing you around and escorting you to classes for the first week, as well as teaching you the other rules. Now, get to breakfast, you'll have a big day ahead of you. Richard Grey, don't you even think it!"

The last was to the grinning Second-Year in question, who had just opened his mouth almost certainly to make a 'Prefect-Mummy' remark. He closed it again with what was not quite a pout, and followed Sienna as she dragged him away.

* * *

It seemed that even those who had not been in the Common Room to hear Roisin's speech had come to the same conclusion about Professor Snape, and spoke the bare minimum as he came around with schedules.

Demanding as he was, Snape had relented, or had been ordered to relent, on the required marks for taking Defence Against the Dark Arts past OWL level. This was a very good thing, as nearly everyone outside of the DA had barely scraped an A, if that, thanks to Umbridge refusing to teach anything useful. Roisin had dropped Care of Magical Creatures (as had nearly everyone else), History of Magic, and Arithmancy, but was cleared to continue her other classes. Greg and Vince had achieved mostly A's, but had gained the required marks for the core subjects except for Transfiguration and Potions, and would be continuing those. Desdemona had dropped Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, and everyone else was continuing with everything except Hagrid's class.

Roisin hastily finished her breakfast, made sure that the Second-Years had their schedules and knew hers, then ran for Ancient Runes, hoping to get a head start on the reading. Also, she had seen Hermione doing the same at the Gryffindor table, and after spending so much time getting better marks than the school genius, Roisin was not about to give up now.

As expected, Ancient Runes did not get easier just because they had passed the OWLs. They had to present one of their OWL rune-spells to the class, which took up most of the lesson, and came away with a fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and several books that needed to be read by Wednesday, only two days away. None of them had any expectations of getting away from even more homework in Defence, either.

They all queued up silently, as they always had for Potions, and the door opened almost exactly as the bell rang. Snape looked slightly disappointed that he would not be able to punish any late-comers, and ordered them inside.

Looking around the classroom, Roisin marvelled that she actually missed the plates with kittens that Umbridge had favoured. Snape had given the room his own touch, and seemed to be missing the dungeons. Gloom had been achieved by drawing heavy curtains over the windows, and while there were no potions ingredients lining the walls, they were decorated instead by pictures of people who had to be in immense pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts.

Professor Snape closed the door and moved to the front of the class, glaring at Hermione and a few Ravenclaws. "I have not asked you to take out your books. I wish to speak to you and I want your fullest attention."

His eyes roved over their faces, all focused on him. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe." _Well, obviously, as no teacher had lasted over a year for a very long time… _"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised that so many of you scraped an OWL in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the NEWT work, which will be much more advanced."

Reading between the lines, it seemed that nearly everyone came to the mutual conclusion that he was going to make life as difficult as possible for the students, especially those he didn't like, in the hopes of getting rid of them. A smaller possibility was that he was going to throw them off the deep end and see who floated, then focus on keeping the swimmers alive through the coming war. Roisin made a note to speak to Harry and Hermione about continued DA meetings. Obviously it would be harder now, but the rotating 'teacher' method should still work, and since there was no longer a ban on practising spells, it wouldn't matter as much if you couldn't make it to every meeting.

Professor Snape swept by, and Roisin hastily returned her attention to the lesson. "The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible."

No-one dared to actually turn and look at each other, but the barest flicker of a glance when Snape was looking the other way served as well. It was one thing to respect the Dark Arts as dangerous and not to be trifled with, but Snape spoke of them with an almost loving caress in his voice. That could not be good.

When Professor Snape returned to the head of the classroom, his voice raised slightly. "Your defences must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated the ones lining the walls, ignoring a few people turning pale, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" (a witch who was clearly screaming in agony) "feel the Dementor's Kiss" (a wizard slumped against a wall, huddled and blank-eyed) "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" (a bloody mass that had probably once been human).

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Roisin's respect for Parvati grew when she dared to speak up, her voice slightly high-pitched. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

It seemed that she was serious about standing by Harry in the coming fight, and didn't cower when Snape glared at her for interrupting. "The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past, which means that you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of non-verbal spells?"

As non-verbal spells were not even taught until Sixth- or even Seventh-Year, there was no need to try and make them feel stupid, and most of the class remained silent out of defiance, leaving Hermione the only one to raise her hand. Professor Snape curtly called on her, after making sure that no-one else had raised a hand. "Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," Hermione stated, "Which gives you a split second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_," the Professor said, dismissively, "But correct in the essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously on the obvious target, "lack."

To Harry's credit, he did not look away, but returned Professor Snape's gaze, glare for glare. Snape was the first to look away. "You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other _without speaking_. The other will attempt to repel the jinx _in equal silence._ Carry on."

Despite the secret DA lessons last year, none of them had been taught to cast silently, too focused on learning to cast anything at all. As such, a reasonable amount of cheating was going on, with many people whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Predictably, Hermione had managed to repel Neville's jinx about half-way through the lesson, and several others, Parvati, Roisin, Draco and Anthony included, had managed to put up silent, if weak, shields against their opponents, so that they were not hit, but did not manage to reflect the spell, either.

Others were not so lucky. Harry had managed to cast a weak Jelly-Legs against Ron before they switched, and currently had his wand raised to shield against a jinx that did not seem to be coming, if Ron's purple face and tightly-compressed lips were anything to go by. Draco had, predictably, been awarded points for managing to cast silently, but, just as predictably, the rest of the class was ignored unless they failed or were caught talking by Snape. He swept over to Harry and Ron, which most people had been expecting to happen long before then. "Pathetic, Weasley. Here – let me show you – "

The Professor turned his wand on Harry faster than most of them could blink, much less aim their own wands to help defend him. Luckily, Harry had very good instincts for self-preservation, and if his shield charm was not silent, it was powerful enough to knock Snape off-balance and cause him to stagger into a desk. The class was silent, not quite daring to cheer until they managed to reach the same level of reflexes that Harry had just shown.

Unfortunately, Snape recovered fairly quickly, scowling. "Do you remember me telling you we are practising _non-verbal_ spells, Potter?"

No one expected Harry to apologize, especially after Snape had tried to curse him without warning. "Yes."

"'Yes _sir."_

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."

There were a few quiet gasps, mostly at the sheer audacity and a few worried about how many pieces Harry was about to be blasted into, but they were outnumbered by the appreciative smiles or gestures from those safely outside Professor Snape's line of sight. "Detention, Saturday night, my office. I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter… not even the _Chosen One._"

It was probably a good thing that most of those present had already been told about the Prophecy, or that would have caused a bit too much speculation. As it was, everyone silently turned their back on Snape and resumed practising.

* * *

It was very good that those not taking Arithmancy had a free period after break, and after lunch, which meant they had the day between Morning Classes and the afternoon Double to get at least part of their homework out of the way. Roisin got a head start on her Ancient Runes work, and then joined the others practising silent casting at the table over lunch, and then managed to get half-way through the theory before Draco, Roisin, Desdemona, Blaise, Theo and Millicent headed off to Potions. Attendance had gone up from the original dozen after the slightly lowered standard and the revelation that Snape was no longer teaching. As such, they were joined by Ernie, Hannah and Susan from Hufflepuff, Parvati, Lavender and the Trio from Gryffindor, and Anthony, Padma, Terry and Michael from Ravenclaw.

Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door when he opened it, and he greeted Harry, Roisin and Blaise with particular enthusiasm, though his demeanour on the whole was already a lot warmer than Snape's.

The lesson and teaching style also looked to be very different. Four cauldrons were already bubbling at the front of the class, and the students looked curiously as they gathered around tables, making sure that their bags were under the desk and they all had room to work. Roisin sniffed, trying to get an idea of the potions. One was odourless and colourless, which narrowed it down considerably, and another was giving off one of the most seductive scents Roisin had ever come across. It reminded her of baking gingerbread and her mother's perfume, and the smell of the green fields and hills surrounding the O'Conner Keep the day after a rain.

Beside her, Desdemona had tilted her head, following Roisin's example. "Coffee and pine, like when we all just sit around the fireplace and just talk, and a bit of gunpowder, like when I wake you up with a Cannon-bang."

Millicent glared, but Draco, who did not have to share a dorm with Desdemona, also considered it. "Wood and polish, like a broomstick, and love-in-idleness, with Pansy laughing when I give them to her. What about you, Blaise?"

Blaise turned slightly pink, but didn't get the chance to reply, as Slughorn started the class. "Now then, now then, now then. Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making…"

About half the class raised their hands. "Sir?"

Harry had spoken first, and Slughorn called on him. "Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything – nor have some of the others – we didn't realize we'd be able to do the NEWT, you see – "

Left unsaid was the fact that, like Hagrid, most students did not consider taking the NEWT to be worth another two years with Snape as a teacher, but Slughorn didn't press. "Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention… not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you all some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can all write home or to Flourish and Blotts and get your own sent over…"

This really was a change, whereas Professor Snape would have made them do without the books and ingredients, and then remove points when they inevitably messed up.

Slughorn returned to the lesson. "Now, then, I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to to make after completing your NEWTs. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this is?"

He pointed at the cauldron nearest Susan, Blaise, Theo and Hannah were sitting, and Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anyone else, though she wasn't the only one to raise her hand. Slughorn pointed at her, raising an eyebrow. Hermione was prompt and sounded, as usual, like she had swallowed the textbook. "It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

Slughorn looked pleased, though whether it was at Hermione's answer or at the number of people who had raised their hands was up for guessing. "Very good, very good. Now," he pointed to the cauldron nearest to where the four Ravenclaws were set up, "This one here is pretty well-known… featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too… who can tell me what it is?"

Again, Hermione's hand was first in the air, but Slughorn called on Padma, who identified the slow-bubbling, mud-like substance as Polyjuice Potion.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here…?"

Hermione's hand had punched the air, but Roisin had been running through possibilities in her mind and was only a second slower. In the interest of giving all of the Houses a chance to answer, so he could get an idea of what everyone knew, rather than just what the top of the class knew, Slughorn called on the Slytherin girl. "It's Amortentia; a powerful Love Potion that smells differently to everyone, according to what attracts us. For example, I smell the air after a rainstorm and gingerbread, like when my mother and I are baking together."

Slughorn looked pleased. Hermione did not. "Quite right! You recognized it, I assume, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen? Or the steam rising in characteristic spirals?"

Roisin nodded. Well, she had recognized that the steam was rising differently to the other cauldrons, though she hadn't used the sheen as an identifying factor. "Also, because we," she indicated Draco, Desdemona and Millicent, "were talking and found out that it smelled differently to each of us. Desdemona, for instance, smelled pine and smoke, like when we are sitting by the fire in the Common Room, and gunpowder like when she's just woken everyone up with a Cannon Charm."

Hermione joined in, "I smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and – " she turned pink and didn't complete the sentence, which made Roisin think that it had to do with a boy.

Slughorn ignored her embarrassment, looking at her with interest. "You seem exceptionally knowledgeable, my dear. May I ask your name?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-Born, you see."

Well, that didn't mean that it wasn't possible, since that society had been founded during times when Squibs tended be removed to the Muggle World, and records were sketchy. The hyphen also suggested being the product of a second marriage, or a mother reluctant to lose her maiden name. It was entirely possible that Hermione was a distant relative and just didn't know.

Perhaps Slughorn came to the same conclusion, or just thought that Hermione would be a good person to cultivate either way. "Oho! '_One of my best friends is Muggle-Born and she's the best in our year!'_ I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

It sounded like something Harry would say, as he tended to be serious about people judging on the base of blood. "Yes, sir."

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

Slughorn's voice was genial, and Draco scowled, as Blaise leaned between tables. "See? I think that Slughorn is going to play favourites, but only to those that he thinks are worth it. Better than Snape favouring or penalizing people because of what house they are in."

Resigning himself to the fact that he was not going to be the class favourite anymore, Draco sighed. "Better make ourselves seem worth it, then."

Slughorn continued the lecture, as if nothing unusual had happened. "Amortentia doesn't really create _love_, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room – oh yes," he nodded at Draco and Theo, both of whom were looking sceptical, "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love…"

Blaise grinned. "Sorry, Professor, but we share a year and a Common Room with girls who think that a real witch shouldn't need love potions to make people do things. Since they've all managed fine so far, I hope you'll forgive our disbelief."

It was true. Pansy and Draco genuinely adored each other, and their combined family influence could get things done. Very few people argued with someone who had as many muscles as Millicent, most people just went along with Desdemona so she would shut up, and Roisin had carefully cultivated a reputation of someone you did not want to cross. Most of it was absolute nonsense, but still useful and amusing.

The boys simply recognized the fact that there was no shame in who got the job done, as long as the overall aim was accomplished.

Pansy had been the one to say that love potions were the sign of a weak mind on both sides, but it was true enough. As was her follow up remark that if someone was too daft to see a person's true value, then it was their loss and not someone you wanted as a partner. Millicent had been the one to remark that obsessive love was a bad thing if it got out of control, and only an idiot would ignore history's warnings of the multiple instances where using potions to control someone went wrong. 'Wrong' as in 'Ended With A Torch-Carrying Mob And An Inventive Demise'

Slughorn chuckled and nodded. "True enough, true enough. Certainly several of the witches I know hold that view. And now, it is time for us to start work."

Ernie Macmillan pointed out the small black cauldron on Slughorn's desk. "Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one."

The potion splashed about merrily; the colour of molten gold, and large drops leaped like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled. It seemed more like Slughorn had not forgotten the last potion, but was waiting for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, _that_ one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had let out an audible gasp, looking excited. "It's liquid luck. It makes you exceptionally lucky!"

That drew everyone's attention even more than the previous cauldrons. "Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis. Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all of your endeavours tend to succeed… at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" asked Terry Boot, aware that there would have to be a good reason for people not to, if it was so powerful.

Slughorn looked pleased. "I'm glad one of you asked. The answer, Mr Boot, is this; if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness and dangerous overconfidence. Too much of a good thing, you know… also highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly and very occasionally…"

Michael Corner picked up on his tone, sounding very interested. "Have you ever taken it, sir?"

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty four, once when I was fifty seven. Two tablespoons taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

He gazed dreamily into the distance, before shaking himself back to earth. "And that is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

There was a silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle out of his pocket and showing it to them. "Enough for twelve hours luck. From dawn till dust, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. No, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organised competitions… sporting events, for instance, examinations or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only… and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"

Huh. Well, Hermione was really going to have some competition, with that as the prize.

Slughorn suddenly dropped the showmanship, becoming very brisk. "So, how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of _Advanced Potion Making_. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

The class descended into a flurry of activity. Those who were already set up got to work, while those who were not scrambled for equipment and ingredients.

Despite the Slytherin mentality of achieving your goals – no matter whose back you had to climb over to get there – they did realize the value of teamwork. Millicent reached for the valerian roots, Roisin took the Sopophorous Beans. Desdemona did a quick scouring and cleansing charms to make sure that no impurities remained. Draco snapped that he could do it himself. The girls rolled their eyes.

Sopophorous Beans produced a lot more juice than one would expect from looking at the shrivelled things. This in mind, Roisin carefully transferred both bean and excess juice into one of three little beakers as soon as she cut it, accepting a bowl of carefully cut valerian roots from Millicent and a phial of perfectly measured wormwood from Desdemona. The first steps completed, they quickly developed a system, rotating between one person preparing the next ingredients while the other two kept an eye on all three cauldrons. It was imperfect, but since their potions achieved the proper smooth, blackcurrant liquid described by the textbook, it clearly worked. Roisin started to carefully bruise the moondew leaves, passing them out and taking over her cauldron again as Desdemona started to powder the snake fangs.

The thing about the Potions classroom was that there was absolutely no privacy. In some cases this was a good thing, as it made it harder for people to goof off around volatile ingredients without getting caught. On the other hand, everyone could see what you were doing, which made having someone copy off you a lot easier.

As their potions began to turn from blackberry to lilac, and Millicent started powdering the asphodel root, they glanced around the classroom. For once, Hermione seemed to be having some difficulty, if her furrowed brow was anything to go by. Harry, by contrast, was looking both surprised and cautious, adding a clockwise stir every so often, though the book instructed only counter-clockwise stirring. Hermione looked indignant, but Millicent, rising onto her tiptoes, was tall enough to see that Harry's potion had turned the desired shade of pink. "Only problem; we can't see how many proper stirs between the counter-clockwise ones."

That was an issue. "Not too many, I should think. The potion is supposed to be a thin liquid, and changing direction too often would thicken it."

Desdemona shrugged. "Five or more, then. I'll do five, Roisin can do six, and Millicent does seven. Does that work for you?"

It worked as well as anything else, and if the potions didn't quite make it to clear, bearing a closer resemblance to the time Harry had accidentally put Roisin's pink sweater in with the whites, the were a lot better than most of the others.

Draco's cauldron looked a lot like the colour of Parvati's robes at the Yule Ball, and while Harry's was the palest, and Hermione's only a few shades darker, the contents of Ron's cauldron looked like sluggish tar, and Ernie's had refused to lighten past navy. "And time's… up!"

Slughorn moved among the tables, peering into cauldrons without commenting, but occasionally giving a stir or a sniff. He nodded approvingly at Hermione, and then stared in delight at Harry's cauldron. "The clear winner! Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good Lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent, she was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, and use it well!"

* * *

They filed out of the Potions Classroom, all talking about the lesson. Draco, while having buried the hatchet as far as Harry was concerned, was still sulking. "How do you think Potter managed it, anyway?"

Blaise shrugged. "He's managed a passing grade for five years, even with Snape doing his very best to fail him. Maybe it's the change of Professor?"

That was plausible, but didn't fully explain. Theo contributed, mostly to cheer Draco up "Even Granger had trouble, and you know she's usually got it perfect on the first go. Potter probably took a gamble on a guess, or made some kind of accidental deviation, and got lucky."

They reached the Common Room and took their usual seats by the fire, waiting for the remaining three to return from wherever they were. Roisin stretched out her legs and got started on her letter to her family. "Well, one thing's for sure; everyone is going to put their very best into Potions from now on, just in case Slughorn gives out more rewards like that."

Desdemona reached for her Potions book and started reading. "No argument there. I just hope he doesn't hand out Amortentia to anyone."

Millicent laughed. "Don't worry, if someone tries to dose any of us, the others will just sit on them until they get over it."

Blaise winced at the image. "Let's try dragging them to a Pomfrey or a Potions Master and getting an antidote shoved down their throat first, all right? Less chance of Grievous Bodily Harm."

Roisin stifled a giggle, picking up a self-inking quill. _'Dear Mum, Dad and Dudley…'_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: For the record, Sorting Songs are bloody hard to write, so I'd appreciate any opinions on how I did. Seriously, rhyme and meter, originality, relevance and staying on topic are not as easy as they look and sound, especially when you have to add a message of unity to a song about separation into Houses. Also, Points to whoever gets why 'love-in-idleness' is a laughable attempt at flower-giving._

_As always, Constructive Criticism is appreciated, while Flames are not. In short: if you hate it, tell me why you hate it, rather than just questioning my immediate ancestry and telling me to never write again._

_Also, if you ask a question, please log in or provide an email address so I can reply to your satisfaction. Even just your pen-name on the site, so I can look you up and PM you that way._

_Really, it's annoying when someone asks something but leaves no way for me to reply._

_Thanks, Nat_


	87. The First Attack

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Can I __please__ stop saying it now? I think the readers are as sick of it as I am._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

_A/N: I should have said this a couple of chapters ago, but virtual cookies to__** the-far-east-half-blood**__, for being my first self-declared fan._

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX**

Much to Draco's dismay, looking after First-Years did not stop just because they were no longer First-Years and his lack of involvement the previous year only made them more determined this year. Sienna, Jacob and Lisbeth were especially insistent on following Draco around, pestering him with questions.

Roisin had no sympathy when Draco complained to her, and bluntly informed her fellow prefect that it served him right for being so neglectful last year. Notice that the now-Second-Years were perfectly respectful of _Roisin's_ schedule.

Trying to flatter her by saying that she had such a motherly air with them didn't work either, as no sixteen-year-old wanted to be compared to a mother, no matter how well-intentioned. Roisin might have been good with the younger members of her clan and with their batch of First-Years, but that didn't mean Draco had any right to call her motherly.

Draco's attempts to explain himself hadn't helped, only digging himself deeper before Pansy Silenced him as a mercy and Roisin left for the Library, intent on further Potions research.

Even repressed talent would be hard-pressed to explain how Harry was improving in leaps and bounds as far as Potions was concerned, with Slughorn praising him as one of the most talented students he had ever taught. Finally, Roisin decided that it was time for a visit to the Gryffindor Common Room for some help with her Potions Homework.

Harry agreed easily, though Hermione scowled at both of them. Ignoring that for now, Roisin took one look at Harry's borrowed Potions text and scowled. "Harry, how on earth are you even managing to read this? Why not just order a new one?"

Harry grinned. "Look closer."

Roisin did, squinting to make out the scrawls. They were alternate instructions, which, put in context, might actually work. She would have to test it to be sure, but perhaps this was the reason for Harry's recent success. "How this is: I re-write that into legible notes, and you let me have a copy. We can keep it a secret and rub it into Snape's face that everyone is growing by leaps and bounds under Slughorn; even the ones he said were useless."

Harry's grin widened, most likely imagining how much it would annoy Professor Snape. "Sounds good to me! When do you think you'll have it done by?"

Roisin did a few mental calculations. She was ahead on Ancient Runes and her Transfiguration and Charms Homework was done. Potions she could do now, and they were currently focusing on the practical aspect in Astronomy and Herbology, so all she needed to do there was a bit of reading. Defence Against the Dark Arts was mostly done and could be completed over breakfast and lunch tomorrow. "Let me finish my Potions homework, and I'll get started on it tonight."

Half way through an essay on the properties of Asphodel, and how different kinds were used in different potions, Roisin remembered something else. "Oh, I meant to ask; are we doing the DA again this year? I think it would be a good idea, since the younger years are too terrified of Snape to learn anything there and it's a good way for the Houses to interact without open warfare, and if we keep up the teaching rotation it won't matter if some of us are too busy to attend every session."

Harry nodded. "I'd thought of that, but hadn't got around to organizing it yet. You know, settling into lessons, organizing Quidditch, and so on."

That made sense. Draco was complaining about the same thing. "Ask Parvati or someone with a lighter course load, then. Delegate someone to get official permission – Maybe one of the Hufflepuffs, they make up a large per cent of the people involved in clubs – get someone else to organize a meeting place and times, and so on."

Harry didn't seem to have thought of that, and Roisin gave him a gentle smile, placing a hand on his arm. "You're not alone, here, Harry. We're with you against Voldemort; all you need to do is ask us to help."

* * *

After a bit of scrambling to get things organized, the DA had resumed again, and the First-Years seemed to be enjoying this year the most. As non-verbal spells were now becoming expected in all classes except Herbology (as no-one expected a student to keep quiet when grabbed by a Venomous Tentacula. She did crack down on the more extreme swearing, though, which led to unofficial competing as to how creatively you could swear without getting into trouble) and Potions (where you didn't use spells anyway), the Sixth-Years were allowing the First-Years to practise on them, theorizing that as they had barely even started learning spells, theirs would be the easiest to undo.

Currently recovering from her turn as a target/dummy, Roisin sat at the side of the room, working on translating the notes from messy scrawls into readable English and keeping an eye on the proceedings. She was about three-quarters of the way through, and hoped to get it finished by the Hogsmeade Weekend. She looked up again when Blaise and Draco joined her, having finished practising with a group of First-Year Ravenclaws. Both looked distinctly the worse for wear. "So much for thinking Ravenclaws would be the easiest. I wasn't expecting them to have studied ahead."

Roisin looked up from her work, pulling out her wand to dispel the last of the effects. "I'll give you ten seconds to work out why that is one of the most idiotic things you've ever said."

Blaise smirked, gingerly prodding a bruise. "Don't mind him, a Fourth-Year accidently hit him with a book when they were practising Banishing spells. What's this?"

Roisin shuffled through the papers in front of her. "Harry's borrowed Potions book is covered in notes from someone who had to be a bloody prodigy. I offered to make a readable version in exchange for a copy."

The two boys exchanged looks. "What and/or how much do you want to let us have a go at those notes as well?"

Roisin had left that opening deliberately. "Well, there were also some notes on experimental spells, but I haven't had a chance to see what they are or if they'd be useful." She picked up the parchment she had been looking for, which had a list of the incantations. "Try them out for me and I'll make a copy for you, as well."

The two boys exchanged looks, weighing the pros and cons of hexing each other with experimental spells, vs. the potions notes that were obviously far and above the textbook. The notes won out, as Slughorn had hinted that he would be handing out other prizes in a month or so, but they had a final question. "What if one of the spells leaves us unable to describe or write down the effects?"

Roisin frowned, having forgotten about that. "Good point. Hey, Luna! Minori!"

For obvious reasons, the DA had expanded its membership, and one of the new additions was a Fourth-Year Ravenclaw who had befriended Luna the previous year, though unfortunately after Hermione's non-disclosure hex was in place. Being two years above and in a different House, Roisin didn't know her well, but Luna thought well of the Japanese girl, and Roisin trusted Luna. After fifteen minutes of casting and counter-casting, the two girls were ready for a break and walked over. Roisin made a mental note to order more parchment as she handed them a roll. "Blaise and Draco are trying some new spells. Can you document the effects for me?"

The two girls agreed, and Roisin went back to translating, hoping to finish at least the chapter before they broke up for the night.

* * *

Quidditch Trials had been held, with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Prefects having been called in to remove their Housemates from the Gryffindor Try-outs. The Slytherin students had already been informed that spying on Quidditch Trials was juvenile and pathetic, and anyone who tried it, even as a method of gathering information, was going to be hexed by their own Housemates. Any Slytherins who had been considering doing so suddenly found better things to do with their time.

In contrast to the masses brought on by students wanting to get close to 'The Chosen One', however the Quidditch Trials for Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin were not as crowded as had been expected, though each House did manage to put a proper team together. It seemed that most people had decided that preparing for the war was a bit more important than tossing a ball through a hoop.

In what shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, a large number of students had got together while comforting Hannah Abbot over the death of her Muggle-Born mother, and working out arrangements for what she would do now. After finally coming to the conclusion that Hannah would stay with Susan, as a Ward of Madam Bones, until she came of age, it came to light that several parents were thinking of removing them from Hogwarts.

All had agreed that they would only be in more danger outside Hogwarts and it's ancient, powerful wards, and had got together to compose a letter home, pointing out this fact, the fact that Underage Magic could be traced, and the fact that they needed to learn everything they could to protect themselves once they left. It had been very close in many cases, and Eloise Midgeon had been withdrawn anyway, but most had stayed.

* * *

Slughorn was holding frequent parties that he called 'get-togethers' for those whose favour he was courting, and often inviting some of his 'old-friends' from outside of Hogwarts. Most of the students, even those who were invited, called it 'shameless networking'. What the more resentful non-invitees called it didn't bear repeating.

So far, these parties had been scheduled on nights that Roisin had Prefect Patrol, which was now taken partnered with Aurors (Roisin had switched from Tonks to Shacklebolt after much begging from Dimitri, who thought that the Auror in question was 'bloody scary!'), and she had been able to beg off, but that couldn't last forever.

Indeed, Slughorn managed to corner her in Honeydukes over the Hogsmeade Weekend, inviting her to a Monday night gathering, one of the few days that Roisin _didn't_ have Patrol, and therefore no excuse. So that was why Blaise had been trying to convince Draco to hold a Quidditch practice that night.

Reluctantly agreeing, Roisin saw Luna and Minori, and bolted, claiming a prior appointment with the two. She didn't have one – quite the opposite, as she had begged off an invitation due to having plans with her own Year-Mates, but at least the two Ravenclaws would be nice enough to let her stick around until Millicent and Desdemona showed up.

Pansy had begged off on a date with Draco, but Roisin, Millicent and Desdemona had decided to spend the Hogsmeade Weekend exploring the newly opened spa. Fresh from a massage and laughing over the names of some of the shades of nail-polish as they left, the happy mood was cut short when they heard the sound of mass apparition, which could only mean either a Death Eater attack or a surprise raid by the Ministry. Exchanging glances, they ran to help.

Other DA members not already at the centre of the commotion joined them as they ran, streaming in from various shops, eateries and discreet alcoves, wands out. Lavender, Seamus, Pansy and the O'Conner twins branched off to direct the panicking residents to somewhere safe, as the rest headed for the main square.

As it turned out, it was Death Eaters, and the residents of Hogsmeade were too busy running around like screaming headless chickens to fight back.

A few streets away from the main square, they ran into a small group of Death Eaters who had cornered a few younger students and townsfolk. The rest of the DA continued on, while the Slytherin Sixth-Year girls dealt with the problem.

Desdemona turned into a hummingbird, distracting their opponents long enough for one of the other two to take them down. A Death Eater pointed his wand at a terrified Third-Year, frozen with fear not far away, "_Cruci – AARGH!"_

He was flattened by a snarling wolf, which crushed his wand – and the hand holding it – between powerful jaws, before another Death Eater came to his rescue, blowing the wolf through the window of a shop. The hummingbird who had been such a nuisance zipped away to check on the wolf, which was now a groaning dark-haired girl in Hogwarts robes, staggering back to her feet.

Leaving one behind to deal with the last girl, a bulky teen who had probably been brought along out of pity, the three others rushed into the shop, looking forward to showing these children that standing up to Death Eaters didn't make you brave.

It made you dead.

* * *

Pansy had been waiting outside a café, trying not to laugh. Draco had arranged a surprise with the manager, but the message had gone missing somewhere, and he had asked her to wait outside while they set it up. Pansy could name several girls who would have simply waited until their date was occupied and then walked away to complain to their friends, but Pansy appreciated the effort and thought it was sweet that he was so determined to do whatever he planned, even if it wasn't quite a surprise anymore.

Someone jostled her as they walked toward the café with a friend. Pansy made a noise of protest, but one of the hooded figures only smirked at her before raising their wand. The other ignored her entirely and stepped inside before the first cast a curse that shattered the decorative overhang above the café. Rubble showered down to block the windows and door, and Pansy screamed as she was confronted by a wild-looking man recognizable from dozens of posters as Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf who went after young children, and almost solely responsible for the general opinion that Werewolves were mindless beasts who loved killing and destruction, even when in human form.

Pansy was fast, but Greyback was faster, and got hold of her, twisting her wand arm behind her back and clapping the other hand over her mouth, nails digging into her cheek. He smelled of filth and death, and the reports said that he enjoyed playing with his victims.

Absurdly, Pansy wondered if Greyback had a cut-off age where he killed instead of biting. She wondered which would be worse.

* * *

Parvati stood with Harry and Ron, terrified but determined. She took a deep breath. She was named for Parvati, the Hindu goddess of power and giver of life energy, both benign and wrathful. The goddess would never shrink from danger, and bearing the honour of sharing her name, neither would Parvati Patil. She had learned to defend herself, and sworn to stand by the boy she loved, and she bloody well would do so!

Hours of Yoga paid off as she bent nearly in half to avoid a spell, shooting off a curse of her own as she did. All right, so she and Padma had spent most of two days perfecting that move in case another of the Hogwarts girls decided to try and impress Harry with duelling, but it worked. She snapped back upright to hit another Death Eater with the spell Harry had found in the Potions Book, which stuck the victim's tongue to the roof of their mouth. An attempted Killing Curse resulted in a cloud of bright pink smoke and the Death Eater being turned into a six-foot-tall pink rabbit, shocking him long enough for Padma, fighting with Neville and Ginny, to take him down with a stunner.

But it was taking too long to get back to an upright position and regain her bearings, and the Death Eaters were converging on the pockets of resistance. Harry swore loudly as a cutting curse grazed his cheek, and Parvati steeled herself.

A Death Eater laughed madly. "Pretty little girl thinks she can save herself! Or maybe she just wants to put on a show for her boyfriend. Do you think your boyfriend will like seeing what we do to pretty little girls who fight us?"

* * *

Bellatrix looked around at the chaos and destruction that had engulfed Hogsmeade.

It was glorious, and strangely fitting. The Wizarding World had been polluted by Blood-Traitors and those tainted by Muggle blood, and as far as she was concerned, those who refused to get up and do anything about it were just as bad. Her master would have to tear the old world down before the new one could be rebuilt from its ashes.

It was regrettable that so many of the _proper-minded_ pureblood families were allowing their children to be influenced by Dumbledore's Muggle- and Mudblood-loving ways, but it wasn't too late. Once they witnessed the power that the Dark Lord had at his disposal, they would see that joining him and following his vision was best for everyone.

As for the so-called 'Light' families… well, they would probably think twice about fighting back if they knew that their children's lives were at risk.

* * *

There were only a few spells that Pansy had mastered the silent casting of, but one of them was the Enlargement Charm, and she was wearing a silver hairpin.

Pansy managed to twist her head to a very uncomfortable angle, holding statue-still just long enough to aim properly. Greyback was preoccupied with her other arm and legs, which Pansy was flailing with all her might, trying to hold her still long enough to get a good bite in. A large chunk of blonde hair fell to the ground as she yanked a silver pin as long as her hand out, driving it into Greyback's arm.

The notorious Werewolf howled in pain, nails ripping furrows in her face as he yanked that arm away. Pansy kept her grip on the pin, pulling out of the arm that was now gushing blood, which was a very good thing, as she felt her wand arm break, causing her to scream once more. Greyback lunged again, and Pansy mentally gave thanks that Roisin had insisted on teaching all of them how to handle a knife. She swiped at him, and he backed off long enough to be hit in a tackle by Vince, who held him down long enough for Greg to get there and hold down his other arm.

The rubble that had been blocking the café was blasted outward as Draco forced his way out and threw a cutting curse that missed Greyback's neck as he threw the two boys off, but cut a nasty furrow over the right side of his chest.

Deciding that he could finish them off another time, Greyback retreated as the air filled with the popping sound of more people Apparating in, as Ministry reinforcements finally showed up.

* * *

Rather than scaring Parvati further, the taunt gave her strength. She was a Gryffindor, and she was fighting for the people she loved! She was a lioness, and these Death Eaters were nothing but jackals who had expected to face harmless schoolchildren and panicking townspeople! She would show them 'helpless'! "_Castrato Explosio!"_

The beauty of that particular spell was that even if you missed, it never failed to make every male within hearing range pause. The stronger ones confined themselves to a violent flinch, rather than curling into a foetal position like the target of Parvati's well-aimed spell had, but it dawned on all of them that while some unspoken code prevented any wizard from using that spell on another, there were plenty of young witches around, most of them fighting angry, and the Indian girl had just taken off the kid gloves.

* * *

Millicent was bulky, but all of it was pure muscle.

The Death Eater who remained behind wasn't taking chances, and had a strong shield that she couldn't penetrate as he walked toward her. The shield stopped spells, and physical items that were conjured or banished at the shield-caster, but the wizard couldn't hold the shield and cast at the same time. All Millicent had to do was let him get close enough…

_WHAM!_ The big Slytherin girl laid the Death Eater out with a single punch, and, guided by instinct, whirled around, taking down another wizard. She frowned; the second wizard wasn't wearing Death Eater robes or mask, but that didn't necessarily mean anything, and sneaking around with a clinking sack didn't suggest an honest, upstanding citizen. Shrinking the sack and pocketing it to hand over to an Auror later, Millicent stunned both men for good measure and ran to help her friends.

They were holding their own, having taken cover behind the main counter, which had a wrought iron lattice that was hard to aim into, but had plenty of little holes for the two girls to fire out of. One of the three was already down and unconscious, though still breathing.

The Death Eaters turned at the sound of Millicent entering, giving Desdemona a chance to take one down with a bludgeoning curse to the legs and Roisin to hit the last with a stunner. Both fell and the two girls emerged from behind their shelter. Roisin was leaning heavily on Desdemona, her ankle clearly hurt in some way. Millicent transfigured some of the debris into crutches, handing them over before looking out the window, where it seemed like Aurors had finally arrived.

She turned back to the Death Eaters, kneeling to help Desdemona pull off the masks. The one she had hit with a bludgeoning curse stared into nothing, a pool of dark red staining the floor beneath his head. Desdemona hadn't noticed it yet as she turned to the last, who had fallen to Roisin's stunner.

"What do we do now? We can't just leave them, and I recognize this one from a poster. He is known for hunting down anyone who manages to escape an encounter with him, like a bloodhound after a fox."

Millicent looked hesitant. "The other two aren't going anywhere in a hurry, at least. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can kill him like this."

Roisin placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, selfishly thankful that someone else had said it first. Hitting someone in a fight for your life was one thing. Hitting when they were already down and unconscious, on the other hand… "Neither can I. Perhaps we can Obliviate them of our involvement and leave them for the Aurors to pick up?"

The other two nodded, and Roisin shakily pointed her wand at the one Desdemona had compared to a bloodhound, who was just starting to stir. "_Obliviate_."

There was a flash of light, and all comprehension left the man's eyes. He looked up at the girls and smiled pleasantly. "You look upset, is there any way I can help?"

Desdemona made a strangled sort of choking noise. Roisin and Millicent stared. The Death Eater looked confused at their response. "Is something wrong? Who are you? Who am I?"

Roisin swayed slightly, feeling as though she might faint. She had meant only to erase the three of them, and perhaps the penchant for hunting people down, but instead she had apparently wiped the man's mind clean of everything except how to move and talk! Desdemona pulled herself together long enough to muster a smile. "Everything's fine. Why don't you go find one of the people in red clothing? I'm sure they'll be able to help."

The Death Eater smiled cheerfully and went to find an Auror. Millicent hit the other two with body-binds and an extra stunner, then steadied Roisin as an Auror came bursting in. Roisin could do nothing but stare blankly, vaguely aware that she was probably going into Shock, as more Aurors came running, put the Death Eaters in magic-suppressing handcuffs, and took them away, leaving one to ask questions.

Roisin let the questions flow in one ear and straight out the other, leaving Desdemona and Millicent to fill in the blanks. She had just taken away a man's life, even if he still walked and breathed, and she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

* * *

The girls had indulged in a good breakdown in the relative privacy of the ruined shop, but even so, everyone was shaken up as they walked back to Hogwarts. Draco, in particular, was very clearly on the verge of collapse, more so than could be caused by Pansy's swift removal to St Mungo's and the Medi-Wizard's unhelpful response that the Healers would need to work fast, and he would only be in the way.

Roisin bitterly reflected that EMT training could do very well to add a course in what _not _to say to the worried friends and family of whoever they were helping.

Finally, Roisin stopped. "You guys go on ahead. We'll catch up." A light push had Draco sitting down on a nearby rock, Roisin joining him with a little more grace. "Right, spill it."

Evans women had followed their men into battle, taken charge in the absence of clear leadership, entertained the families of higher-ups while under siege, and had a history of giving birth in highly inconvenient circumstances (Roisin's maternal grandfather had been born a month early, while his parents were stuck in a broken-down car miles from anywhere on a return from a weekend trip). The end result was a breed of women who, when duty or necessity called, turned into pure steel. Roisin had already had her collapse, and now she needed to pull herself together and be strong for others. Panic and helplessness could wait until she was asleep and show up in nightmares.

Millicent and Theo could handle Desdemona once the shock wore off and she realized the full effects of what had happened. Blaise, Greg and Vince were reluctant at best to talk about feelings, and Draco needed someone to talk to. She waited as Draco struggled for words, trying to give off an air of reassurance. Finally, the boy sighed and began, almost rambling. "I believe in the whole Blood-Purity cause, you know, and maybe I would have joined, but this…"

Roisin bit back her opinion of the Blood-Purity cause, and tried to fix an expression of gentle understanding onto her face. "Go on."

Draco looked at her with a vulnerable expression, almost like that of a scared child hoping for an older sibling to make it all better. "I saw what a Death Eater raid involved. They were throwing Unforgivables, horrible curses like I've never seen, and _enjoying_ it. They didn't care who they hit, either. Or even if the person was fighting back or running away. I saw one of them using the Cruciatus curse on a_ toddler_, while its mother was petrified and forced to watch!"

There was really nothing Roisin could say that wouldn't sound accusing or judgemental, and while Draco, or any might-have-been Death Eater, richly deserved it, now was not the time. Instead, she reached over and wrapped her arms around him, pretending that she couldn't see him cry.

* * *

The school was very subdued as they waited for news of injured friends, or tried to gently coax traumatized ones back out of the shell that they had withdrawn into. The First- and Second-Years were scared, and found themselves unexpectedly in the role of comforter, rather than the other way around, as they might have wished.

Roisin had sent a letter to her family, saying that there had been an attack on Hogsmeade, but that she was physically unhurt except for a broken ankle that had been caused by falling and landing wrong, and which had been fixed in minutes. As she had told Desdemona when the other girl had read the letter over her shoulder; "_you expect me to give __details?__ They'd have me out of here so fast your head would be spinning! This way, they'll only send a worried letter and demand that I visit over the holidays so that they can see for themselves"._

Meanwhile, the expanded DA was up for another meeting, but Harry had called the original group together for a talk beforehand. Apparently, Dumbledore had promised him some kind of special lessons and information on Voldemort, and Harry wanted to talk to them about it, as he didn't hold Dumbledore's views on not sharing details unless forced to. The DA had vowed to help him, and they needed the facts if they were to do so.

Dumbledore had asked him to keep the lessons secret, but after the Hogsmeade attack, Harry decided that they needed to know everything they could, and if Dumbledore didn't like it, that was just too bad.

As predicted, Smith and the Hufflepuffs were very obviously shunning Ginny, especially after the Professors had ruled that as school hadn't officially started at the time, there wasn't much they could do to punish the redhead, apart from a stern lecture. They had proved in Hogsmeade that they would stand beside her in a fight, but that didn't mean that they had to be nice to her the rest of the time.

That fiasco was put aside, however, as Harry described what had happened in his lesson that Monday, the second meeting with Dumbledore. Cho started with the most relevant question. "I'm sorry, but how does You-Know-Who's life story help to keep you alive and defeat him?"

Roisin agreed; with disappearances, attacks and deaths every other week, one would think that the Headmaster would be focusing more on spells to keep everyone alive! Harry shrugged, at something of a loss himself. "He said something about knowing where Voldemort came from helping me to understand and better fight him. I thought that we would be learning spells or something, but apparently not."

Parvati seemed to be not the only one growing up, as Lavender said what Roisin and apparently Desdemona had been thinking. "I feel sorry for Merope."

Several people turned to stare at her, with the general consensus of '_but she ensnared an innocent Muggle with a love potion'_. Lavender blushed, retreating, and Roisin took up the opinion, with the Slytherin tendency to look at both sides of an issue and see who benefited, who lost, and who was desperate. "Think about it. Merope is living in fear of her life at the hands of a verbally and physically abusive father and brother. They probably couldn't afford to send her to Hogwarts, if she even got a letter in the first place, and any wizard would recognize the use of a love potion and get an antidote. With her family's reputation, you can bet she wouldn't find shelter in the village."

Desdemona nodded. "Sad as it is, ensnaring a rich Muggle was probably her only hope of escape, and she loved her child enough to keep it, even after her husband ran off. If she had to sell family heirlooms just to eat, she probably couldn't afford St Mungo's or a trained Healer, which left her with few options. If she barely had enough magic to mend a cooking pot, I wouldn't count on being powerful enough for her healing spells to be any good, if she even knew them."

Hannah continued on. "Muggle Orphanages didn't have many rules governing them, but at least Merope managed to make sure that her son would be looked after and safe, rather than leaving him to die on the streets. Besides, Dumbledore himself said that it was mostly guesswork. Who's to say that there isn't another explanation?"

They broke away from this uncomfortable topic, returning to the subject of Voldemort himself. Colin's father was a milkman, but his mother was a psychologist. "So it looks like You-Know-Who already had some kind of mental disorder, probably on the high end of the Sociopathic spectrum, and a childhood in an orphanage, with people too busy or too scared to reign him in, and a lack of real knowledge about mental disorders at the time, would have only made it worse."

Ron stared at him. "You can't really be defending or feeling sorry for You-Kn – _Voldemort!_ After all that he's done?"

Colin shook his head. "Of course not, I just mean that under different circumstances, he could have received some kind of help, and maybe he wouldn't have even become a Dark Lord. Just one of those 'what-if' scenarios."

Well, it wasn't going to get them anywhere either way, so Roisin stood up. "Anyway, the rest of the DA will be here soon, and I got some of the boys to help test out some of those spells you found, Harry," she ignored the glare from Hermione, who profoundly disapproved of the book, for some reason. "Do you want to focus on those this session?"

Blaise and Draco hadn't been pleased at suffering the results of said spells until the others had figured out how to reverse them, and had been rather stilted toward Roisin the next day, but it had been effective. So far, there had been a hex that made a person's toenails grow alarmingly fast, to the point where it was practically impossible to stand or walk, a jinx that glued someone's tongue to the roof of their mouth (with very amusing results when they attempted to cast a spell, as Parvati had proven in the Hogsmeade attack), a spell that flipped someone upside down in mid-air (good for knocking a Death Eater unconscious when you cancelled the spell and dropped them on their head). Probably the most useful was an anti-eavesdropping spell, _Muffliato,_ which filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that conversations could not be overheard.

Harry nodded. "Perfect. How are you doing with the other notes?"

Roisin smiled proudly. "Finished them last night. Just give me a few minutes to duplicate them, and you can have them."

The Ministry of Magic had some kind of enchantment for duplicating forms, but normal duplication spells wore off, leading Roisin to use a Rune-spell, instead, linking the rolls of parchment to each other, copying what was written on the first parchment to the second. She had come up with the idea after writing to Sirius about the linked mirrors that he and Harry had used, sketching the Japanese character for 'double', a rune for connection between two things, and the hieroglyph for papyrus and writing.

Several students watched in fascination as the writing appeared, line by line, on the blank rolls. Roisin smiled; she loved Runes, and was good at it, and it was so nice to be doing something that felt almost normal. Padma looked intrigued. "Can you teach me that one? It would be really useful for study groups."

Roisin shrugged. "Sure, just get your own parchment, because I'm not going to have enough working off the extra parchment I bought in Hogsmeade. Come to think of it, you can have a copy of the notes for three sickles and bring your own parchment."

Terry looked indignant. "You're making us pay for notes that you borrowed off Harry anyway?"

Roisin retaliated with a dark look. "Do you know how long it took to translate those notes into readable English and copy them down properly? The amount of study time I had to use to finish them? Almost a month, thank you, so I think I'm being generous! If you want to miss out on the notes of a previous Potions Prodigy, though…"

The Ravenclaws didn't want to give up the notes, or the Rune-spell, and grudgingly paid up, as Ravenclaws never went anywhere without quill and parchment. The other Houses promised to come visit the Slytherin table after breakfast, when the dishes were cleared away. Feeling very pleased, Roisin handed a third of the profits to Harry, for finding and lending her the book in the first place.

There was a knock on the door as the rest of the DA arrived, missing a few members that were still confined to the Hospital Wing or St Mungo's (Pansy was due to be released in two days), and they got to work with a new sense of purpose.

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Shorter than the last chapter, but the Hogsmeade scenes were not easy to write. It's the first time I've written a detailed fight scene, so comments on how I did would be very much appreciated. There will be more, so I really do need to know what should be improved._

_What annoyed me about '__Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince'__ was that despite the fact that the Second War had really started – and with a vengeance – it was shoved into the background except for a few sentences here and there. I plan to focus on the War and how it affects the Hogwarts students, especially since Draco is not running around trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet this time._

_Thanks, Nat_


	88. Circle, Center, Lover, Friend

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Is everyone clear on this? _

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN**

In the Battle of the Ministry, all the DA had to worry about was each other, and Death Eaters who were more concerned with getting the prophecy than getting the students. Even so, Harry was willing to admit that they had been bloody lucky that the Order had shown up when they did.

In the Hogsmeade attack, they had to deal with panicking residents, had not had the chance to contact the Order for support, and no time to form any real plan. They had to deal with Death Eaters who didn't have anything to distract them from causing as much pain, fear and devastation as they could.

There was another difference, too.

At the Ministry, Parvati was safe at Hogwarts, getting in contact with the Order and running distraction for them. Hogsmeade was different. Harry had taught her to protect herself, and wasn't stupid enough to try and keep her out of the war, but he also hadn't been prepared for the rage that coursed through him when the Death Eater threatened her, or the flash of fear every time a spell barely missed her.

Parvati wasn't brash, like Ginny, or guided-missile-direct, like Hermione, but she had her own courage, and her quiet refusal to wilt in the face of adversary was one of the things he liked about her. Hermione hadn't approved of the relationship, nor had Ginny, or Ron, or Mrs Weasley, when they started seeing each other, but Parvati had refused to surrender without giving it a real try, and seeing her take a chance on him made Harry begin to stand up for himself and what he wanted.

Roisin had supported them from the start, and Hermione – eventually – came around, and Harry was learning that it was good to fight for something more than just his own survival. It was new to have someone fight for him, as even Roisin had kept her defiance subtle before the Hogwarts Letters, and Parvati's faith and determination helped him fight his own battle.

The battle to be able to date – and maybe more, in the future – was only one of those battles, but Harry knew that Parvati would be with him all the way, and if she believed in him, the least he could do was believe in himself.

Harry didn't think of the future much, except when it involved counting down the days until he could leave 4 Privet Drive, and the knowledge that he wanted a family of his own one day. When he thought of family, he envisioned a house with room to play, and multiple, green-eyed children.

He had to survive the Prophecy (He might not believe it, given the source, but Voldemort did, enough to make it self-fulfilling) and the inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, but now, when he closed his eyes and thought of the future, there was a woman beside him, and the children had darker skin.

...

Parvati was conscious of the fact that, as the 'Gryffindor Twin', people mostly saw her as just a pretty face, and for the most part, she was OK with that.

The people who knew her knew better than that, and she comforted herself with the fact that those who laughed dismissively would get a rude awakening. Parvati was comfortable with who she was, and knew what she wanted for the future. Being in Gryffindor didn't mean you couldn't have plans, it meant that you had the courage to try to reach those goals and believe that they were possible.

Harry had not been part of those plans at first, aside from an almost-mandatory crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, which grew into true affection for Harry himself when she realized that Hero or not, he was still a honest, clueless boy who became tongue-tied around pretty girls.

Parvati had no intention of completely altering herself into a stranger for some boy, but all relationships call for a certain amount of sacrifice, and cause some kind of change, and Harry had a way of making people change for the better. He was a leader, someone worth following to Hell and back, and he inspired people to follow his example.

Parvati could be single-minded, and if it hadn't related to her plans, and since Padma was probably already better at it anyway, she often let things slide. If she wanted to stand at Harry's side as an equal – because he needed an equal, to challenge and inspire him, not someone who would simply agree with him all the time – she needed to grow up and broaden her horizons.

Harry had inspired her to take the power that had waited deep inside her, growing from all the things she didn't do, because Padma was better, and use it. To him, it didn't matter if Padma was better at something, because Parvati had her own strengths, and Harry was interested in her, not her twin.

Her relationship with Harry – they were not lovers, but the terms 'boyfriend and girlfriend' seemed somehow not enough to describe them – had made Parvati stronger and more confident, and she knew that her love had helped Harry, too.

He had gone along with Ron and Hermione in order to avoid conflict, but gentle encouragement and expressing confidence in him, rather than demands, forced him to start making his own decisions about what he wanted and how to achieve it.

In the beginning, prior to the Yule Ball, perhaps they had relied on Roisin for advice – in hindsight, Parvati wouldn't have blamed the Slytherin girl for telling her to shove off when she asked for help – but they soon learned to give and take. Parvati didn't understand much about Quidditch, but she listened to Harry's enthusiasm and picked up enough to hold a good conversation, because he enjoyed it. Harry wasn't overly keen on shopping or fashion, but he followed her into shops and listened as she explained the difference between lavender and lilac, and complimented her outfit, because he knew that it was her passion.

The Future still included her original plan: Padma and their family, and opening a fashion line with Lavender, but a Harry-shaped figure was working its way into that plan, too.

* * *

Draco was self-aware enough to admit that he could be a bit self-centred, but right now, he was too worried about Pansy to think of how recent events had affected him personally.

He had been frantic when the Medi-Wizards took one look at her, shoved him aside, and Portkeyed her to St Mungo's, their only promise that they couldn't promise anything. He had spent over a week barely able to eat breakfast, simultaneously hoping for and dreading the arrival of an owl that might bring news of her condition.

Draco's parents expected him to date and marry a Pureblood, but aside from that – or a damn good argument for why he would date a non-Pureblood – it was left up to him.

It wasn't that Pansy was some kind of default, either. Pansy supported him, loved him, and indulged what he could see in hindsight were some very stupid ideas, letting him learn his own lessons while doing what she could to mitigate the consequences. He wasn't always as grateful of appreciative as she deserved, but he was going to change that.

For all his faults, Draco was steadfast and loyal to those he loved, and he loved Pansy quite a lot, even if they were only sixteen. He only hoped that Pansy would open up enough to tell someone what was wrong.

He wasn't good at talking about feelings, not that many teenage boys were, but he knew that the other girls in his year were, and girls talked to girls. His mother had mentioned chocolate as a cure-all-ill, and it seemed to work as a bribe for Desdemona or Greg and Vince. Honeydukes was good, but there was a chocolatier in Kent who was better, according to his parents, and the girls had been gushing over some kind of scented things from that new spa in Hogsmeade.

Draco left to collect his money pouch and write a few messages. Even if it didn't get Pansy to start talking to him again, even if she didn't open up to her other friends, chocolate and a bit of pampering would either lift her spirits… or blow up in his face.

Hopefully the former.

...

Pansy was back from St Mungo's healthy, but very subdued. The attack on Hogsmeade had changed things, perhaps forever.

She had been avoiding Draco and her friends, unsure of how to tell them what was wrong, but trying to decide how to break the subject became un-necessary. Pansy felt a warm glow as she suspected that Draco had been behind the whole thing, but recognized that he had a habit of shoving his foot in his mouth when it came to important issues. Left to their own devices, Roisin tended to wait until a person thought they were ready to talk, Millicent wasn't so abrupt, and Desdemona wasn't this discreet.

All three held an 'annoying little brother' soft spot for Draco, however, and while it had taken a long time for him to admit that he couldn't do everything himself, Draco was finally willing to ask his friends for help when he needed it. Besides, there was no aspect of Prefect Duties that would make him look so concerned when he was talking to Roisin earlier that day.

Now, Pansy's three Dorm-Mates had cornered her in their room, armed with chocolate, fluffy cushions, a pampering kit, and a small amount of fire-whisky confiscated from a Seventh-Year, just in case. An anti-eavesdropping spell on the door made sure that they would not be disturbed, and they settled in for the night. Millicent started, her tone gentle. "All right, Pansy, you've been acting strange ever since you got back. What has you all worked up?"

Pansy started to snap, but realized that the other girls had no intention of moving. Desdemona took up the fight. "We're your friends, Pans. You're not going to push us away, no matter what."

Pansy gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "Don't be so sure. The Healers said that they don't know what the effects of Greyback biting me will be, since he was in human form at the time. What if I really am infected, and turn into a werewolf? How will Draco react?"

Becoming a werewolf was something that even Pansy's pureblood status couldn't protect her from, and she was terrified that Draco's ingrained prejudice would cause him to dump her with no questions asked. Mr Malfoy certainly wouldn't approve, and Draco had spent most of his life trying to please the man.

Millicent tried to reassure her. "Since Draco has spent the last week worrying over you, and at least an hour muddling through catalogues to find and order all of this, I think it's safe to say that he won't care, and the rest of the world can shove their opinions somewhere unpleasant."

Roisin joined in. "Besides, you don't know for certain that you will, and at least half of us have finished the Animagus transformation. When we were researching, I found a note that said that werewolves are less likely to attack animals, and a bear and a wolf can certainly keep you under control." She reached out and hugged Pansy. "So, until we know for certain, can you _please_ tell Draco what is going on? It's kind of pathetic that he can barely focus on anything else, and he's been driving the rest of us insane."

Pansy giggled, looking pleased, but quickly sobered again. "The full moon is _tonight,_ and Dumbledore hasn't said a thing to me about security arrangements. What do I do then?"

Roisin shrugged. "We go to the Room of Requirement, seal ourselves in for the night, and see what happens. We'll work from there."

Pansy nodded, feeling a warm glow inside her, fighting back against the fear that gnawed at her insides. Draco might be a loud-mouthed idiot at times, but he was _her _loud-mouthed idiot. She loved him, and she knew that he loved her, so until he actively broke up with her, she would act on the assumption that they planned on staying together.

* * *

It was shortly before moon-rise when Millicent, Pansy, Roisin, Blaise and Draco cut a tutoring session short and made their quiet way to the Room of Requirement, which provided a secure and sound-proof area for them to wait out the night. Greg, Vince and Theo had not quite mastered the transformation, though they had certainly been working hard on it recently, and stayed behind with Desdemona, in order to make excuses if necessary.

Pansy had been wearing her oldest set of robes, just in case, and stripped down to her underwear as the moon began to rise. It had taken the better part of an hour for the girls to convince Pansy that it was no different from wearing a bikini, as she had during the summer, and either way, they had seen it all before every time they changed in front of a mirror. It had been interesting that Pansy had only pointed out that unless Blaise and/or Roisin were holding something back, he hadn't seen a semi-naked female body before.

Roisin had been unsure who to glare at first when Blaise pointed out that no, he hadn't seen Roisin or Pansy in such a state, but summers in Italy meant a lot of time on the beach, and some beach-goers went around in swim-suits that covered a lot less than underwear. He had been about to continue when Vince asked what that was supposed to mean, but stopped when he saw the number of female hands hovering close to wands.

The first hint of moonlight appeared over the trees, and the other four also changed. An enormous adolescent bear managed to give the strong impression of a dirty look as Pansy smirked and conjured a honey pot. A sleek black Cat purred in a very self-satisfied way. A wolf the size of a small horse shook itself and gave a suspiciously amused-sounding chuff, placing one paw firmly on top of a snow white ferret, which squeaked in indignation.

Pansy managed a small giggle before moonlight streamed through the window and the blonde girl began to shake.

* * *

Hermione knew that she should be doing her homework, but for now, she was enjoying an evening of quiet contemplation over new developments.

It had begun, as many of the significant events of Hermione's life had, in the library.

Hermione always had set goals for each year. One was always to get the best grades she possibly could, and read as many books as she could get her hands on, in order to get a good job when she left Hogwarts. Another was attempting to keep her two best friends out of trouble, which came a close second because she knew it was an exercise in futility.

This year, _Surviving The War _took up a large part of her focus, but she had added another goal midway through last year, as well: _Prove That I Am Female. Addendum: Possibly Get A Boyfriend._

Her brief romance with Viktor in her Fourth Year had given her confidence that perhaps she was not doomed to spend the rest of her life as 'One of the Guys', even if it hadn't worked out, and she had spent an afternoon at Grimmauld place avoiding Mrs Weasley as she examined herself and what she wanted in a relationship, so as to develop a plan and criteria.

Compatibility was a must, along with a willingness to listen to her and not shoot down her ideas just because they came from her, and at least two shared interests. Hermione could have stretched that to include Harry, but she had long since placed Harry in the role of slightly exasperating younger brother, and he had enough on his plate at the time. As she had overheard Parvati telling Roisin, Harry had not been ready for a proper relationship during most of Fifth-Year.

Other criteria was enough differences that they would both have to learn to compromise (something that Hermione should probably work on either way) and hear each other out, and so they would have something to talk about. Her potential partner would have to be able to challenge her, but with calm logic, rather than mocking derision.

That eliminated Ron, as well. They were too different, and unless Harry was there to mediate, their conversations always deteriorated into fights, and that was not something on which to build a relationship. No matter what Lavender insinuated, shouted arguments born from a refusal to see each other's point did not automatically equate to Unresolved Sexual Tension.

She had been found by Ginny at that point, and further planning had been stalled until they got to Hogwarts, where she had taken advantage of the boy's Quidditch obsession to go to the Library and see if they had any books on relationship advice.

Outside of books on Love Potions, anyway. Hermione might not agree with the Slytherin Girls in her year on many things (quite the opposite), but they all shared the view that if matches were not necessarily made in heaven, they weren't made in a cauldron, either, and any witch or wizard who had to resort to such methods didn't deserved to have it blow up in their faces.

That was when Anthony had come in, muttering darkly about Quidditch-obsessed friends and didn't they realize that it was their OWL year?

It wasn't the kind of Eyes-Meet-Across-The-Room-And-Happily-Ever-After scenario that most girls dream about. To be honest with herself, Hermione would have been headed straight for the dungeons to brew a Love Potion Antidote if it was.

Anthony loved books as she did, but he enjoyed other things, too, and managed to coax her outside for walks, lively debates and doing things purely for fun. He recognized her occasional frustration when people seemed not to realize that she was a girl, and came up with subtle ways to demonstrate that even if others didn't notice her femininity, he did.

He didn't agree with her about the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare, but instead of dismissing it as stupid, he suggested that she do a bit more research, widen her information base, change it to a longer term campaign (he did have a point that people paid more attention to a Hogwarts Graduate than a Hogwarts Student) and perhaps modify the goals.

She had baulked at first, but admitted that if multiple people were constantly saying the same thing in that her current plans wouldn't work, perhaps more research and smaller steps were required to get things done.

Compatibility, listening to each other, resolving things without screaming, and shared interests: check.

...

Anthony had admired Hermione's intellect and magical ability for a long time, and in the past year, he had started to admire the bossy girl for herself, too.

He knew that despite her bossiness and outward confidence, a lifetime of people wanting homework help, but not friendship, had made her insecure, and that while she sometimes had some difficulty in showing it, she cared deeply, and would go to any lengths to protect her friends. The ruthlessness was a bit intimidating, and her S.P.E.W. campaign could have been better thought out, but he liked that she wasn't perfect. It made her human, rather than an unattainable wisdom deity.

Her hair was bushy, but off-set by pretty brown eyes, a prettier smile, and it let him shower her with increasingly-outrageous complimentary metaphors until she either burst out laughing or kissed him to shut him up. To be fair, Pallas Athena was always shown with a helmet, or with her hair done up in a Grecian style, so no-one could tell if her hair was bushy or not, and with Hermione's vast knowledge of spells, he could hardly liken her to a goddess who only sat around looking pretty and being largely useless.

Hermione had liked that comparison, and Anthony liked to think that it had contributed to her agreeing to give a relationship a try. He probably wouldn't have summoned the courage to try if he hadn't glimpsed her list of criteria to look for in a boyfriend and done a quick mental run-through to see if he might qualify.

People would think it strange, but it was something uniquely _Hermione, _and a quirk that Anthony liked about her.

Ravenclaws could be a bit arrogant about coming from the 'Intelligent House', and became slightly insufferable when people tried to argue with them. Hermione not only tried to argue with them, but did so with logical, well-reasoned arguments, and effectively punctured their ego by usually being right, and the sheer amount of effort she put into her studies left many Ravenclaws floundering in her wake.

Hermione sometimes needed a bit of prompting to emerge from the library that she had adopted as a place of refuge, with Madam Pince (or the librarian of the community or primary school, depending on her age and location) as a guardian against bullies or a silent companion to ward off loneliness, but when she did, she enjoyed doing things together.

They both appreciated each other's ability to sit and study in comfortable silence, and to not take things personally if they got a bit snappy during periods of academic stress.

Anthony didn't know if they would survive the war, or if their relationship would last beyond it, but he had every intention of trying.

* * *

In the Room of Requirement, five animals looked at each other.

The fifth animal was not a werewolf, but it wasn't quite a pug dog, either. Ironically, it was radiating annoyance at this fact. Almost as ironically, the wolf, who still thought that dog body language was just a bastardized version of wolf body language, so there, and could muddle through it, found it something of a relief that Pansy retained enough of her old self to be annoyed that she was less than pure-bred.

The dog's feeling of irritation deepened when she tried to change back, and couldn't. The wolf conveyed that perhaps it was related to the werewolf bit, and if she couldn't turn herself back in the morning, they would find Professor McGonagall. The dog wanted to know why they couldn't go and find the Transfiguration Professor _now._ The ferret, catching the gist of things, squeaked apologetically and looked at the door, then outside at the full moon.

The she-bear covered her eyes with a paw, correctly interpreting that Draco had asked the room to provide a space that no-one could get in or out of until morning. The wolf made a disgruntled noise while the cat looked superior in the knowledge that a cat would never make such a mistake, and the dog lay down, opening her front paws slightly. The ferret scurried forward, settling between them and curling up for the night.

The wolf settled down on one side, batting the cat with her tail until it settled next to the bear, who had curled protectively around the others, completing the protective circle.

* * *

There were a number of things that Roisin could happily have gone through life without seeing or knowing.

The new sleeping arrangements of two of her room-mates were one of those things.

She understood, of course, given how little time it had been since they had all feared for Pansy's life, and the trauma of the Hogsmeade attack, and the relief that Pansy would apparently only be stuck in a wolf-pug hybrid form one night a month (her Animagus form had adjusted to that form, too, which was annoying) but really.

Roisin and Millicent had become concerned when the morning had begun without a cannon-blast spell and the associated yelling from anyone still asleep. It was rare for Desdemona to get up early, but not unheard of, so they didn't think much of it when she was not there. Figuring that she might as well get Pansy up, anyway, Roisin started to open the curtains around Pansy's bed, and nearly dropped them again.

Pansy was there, and sleeping, her blonde hair spread over the pillow, which was normal enough. What was _not _normal was the familiar white-blond head leaning against Pansy's, while she used his shoulder for a pillow.

Fortunately, both were dressed, but Roisin's cheeks still burned as she backed away. "Best to leave them alone, I think."

Millicent came over. "What do you mean, '_Them'_? Oh. I wonder how he got past the alert charms. I suppose we'd better go find Desdemona.

Roisin nodded. "They both went to bed early, so either he probably either took his broom and came in through the window, or Ophelia was right when she mentioned that the alarms on the older dorms only kick in after certain hours. You check the Great Hall, and I'll take a look in the boy's dorm."

The Sixth-Year boys did not have the long habit of getting up early to avoid Desdemona's wake-up call, and as they had a free period after breakfast, had elected to sleep in. Managing not to wake them and giving thanks that the Boy's Dorm did not have similar Alert Charms; Roisin crept over to Theo's bed, where Theo and Desdemona had taken the precaution of sleeping on top of the blankets as extra proof that nothing had happened, though they were still wrapped securely in each other's arms.

Hearing the sound of someone starting to stir, Roisin quickly retreated, feeling very glad that, aside from the now-Second-Years, the rest of the House was officially Not Her Problem.

Though it would be interesting if Hermione tried to drag her best friends off for an early-morning study session (reasoning that they couldn't claim a prior excuse if they hadn't had time to make one) and ended up walking in on Harry and Parvati in a similar situation. Like Pansy, Desdemona and Draco, it would be like walking in on your siblings.

Fine, so she wouldn't - or at least shouldn't - wish that on anyone, but it wasn't fair for her to have to be the only one to have to deal with this kind of thing, and given recent events, the scenario was probably being repeated in the other Houses.

Just when Roisin had begun to hope that things were settling down, too.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Yes, it was a fluff chapter. After the events of the last one, I thought that they had earned it. They're in a war, which makes people grow up fast, but they're still kids, and I wanted to give them a chance to think about normal things, as well as what's going on outside. Thanks also to __**kmbonjovifan**__, who wanted to see a bit more romance._

_I know it's short, but I had three tests this week, and another two coming up, plus being put in charge of a monthly newsletter, so my writing time is minimal. Be happy that I had the time to write and post at all._

_Thanks, Nat_


	89. Crushes, Quidditch, and Christmas

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Say it with me, everyone._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT**

Draco had some very interesting news for Roisin and, through her, Harry.

While his parents were safe and passing what information they could carefully scoop up to the Order, they felt the need to keep him updated on what was going on. Apparently, there was currently a massive argument between Sirius and Dumbledore, and it looked as if the Order would be finding a new Headquarters if it wasn't resolved.

During the Hogsmeade Attack, Millicent had stunned what turned out to be Mundungus Fletcher, who had been sneaking around with a sack full of items stolen from the Black Family. Kreature had apparently finally passed away about mid-way through the term, which meant that whatever method he had been using to keep Mundungus out of – well, pretty much everything – had fallen with him. The theft of goblin-wrought silver and an Order of Merlin would have been bad enough, but the sack also contained a necklace belonging to Narcissa Malfoy, which had been one of the first gifts Lucius had given her while they were courting.

The worst part, however, was that Dumbledore was insisting that Sirius and the Malfoys could not press charges, because they needed Mundungus Fletcher's underground connections, so the Headmaster would 'regrettably' be forced to use his connections to block any attempts at seeing the thief punished.

Under some circumstances, Roisin might have agreed, as long as the stolen items were returned, as Narcissa had demanded as a counter-offer to wait until after the War to press charges. However, as the Order had seen no actual benefit from Fletcher's connections, other than Fletcher using Headquarters as a hide-out for other stolen goods, she, along with everyone else who had either heard the loud argument or found out from others, was all for Fletcher having a nice long chat with the Aurors.

If Dumbledore was worried about secrecy, then Madam Bones would probably be willing to keep the questioning to Mundungus's crimes of petty theft, rather than general questions, and she was unlikely to offer a plea bargain for anything less than Voldemort's exact location.

Dumbledore, however, was not budging on his insistence that Mundungus get away free, and Sirius and Narcissa were not budging on the fact that he had been trying to make off with valuable jewellery and family heirlooms, and their insistence on some form of punishment. When told of the events, Harry was just as furious, which didn't win Dumbledore any trust points in the widening rift between Headmaster and Chosen One.

* * *

Of course, that wasn't even half of the soap opera that was daily life at Hogwarts.

Roisin and Millicent were studying in the library when Harry suddenly sat down beside her, looking depressed. "Can I talk to you?"

Roisin sighed and put down her quill. Somehow, she didn't think she was going to get much work done tonight. "I suppose I can't stop you."

Most would have taken that as "_I'm Busy, So This Had Better Be A Matter Of Life And Death_", but teenage boys could be spectacularly dense at times. "You know that I love Parvati, but a few days ago I saw Ginny and Dean kissing, and I felt like ripping him apart for touching her, and then Ron offered to share a box of cauldron cakes yesterday, and I'm suddenly thinking about Romilda Vane."

Roisin sighed. "Do you have any of the cauldron cakes left? And why do you feel like ripping Dean apart? I advise against that, by the way."

Harry shrugged. "Yes, there are still a few left in the dorms, and I don't know. It just feels like I'm angry, and protective. I think that it's probably just because she's Ron's sister, and the Weasleys are like family, so it's natural that I'd be protective, even though she probably doesn't need it, right?"

Behind Harry's back, Millicent rolled her eyes, grinning widely. Roisin resisted the urge to smirk. There was every chance that Harry really was just feeling protective over a friend/little sister, but if it was a love potion, leaving Ginny eternally stuck in the position of friendship and family love would be better than any kind of post-antidote revenge. "Well, you and Ron and Hermione are as close as siblings; I expect you'd feel the same if you saw Hermione kissing someone in front of you. As for Romilda, let's get one of those cakes and see if Professor Slughorn can whip up an antidote."

Next, Roisin needed to have a word with Parvati and a few others, to explain matters and get them to reinforce the 'Ginny-as-a-little-sister' opinion whenever possible. Harry and Parvati were good for each other, and anyone who used Love Potions on another person didn't deserve them. Besides, mindless devotion would get bloody annoying after a while, but then you'd be stuck.

…

Parvati had seethed and gone for her wand, which Lavender hastily snatched out of her reach, when Roisin told her, but agreed that Harry did tend to be protective of those he loved, so it was just as likely that Ginny was innocent. It didn't stop her spreading the word to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, however, who joined in on the cause.

Seeing Harry glaring at Dean, Michael Corner laughed and remarked that it was a good thing that he and Ginny had kept their relationship private, if Harry was going to go all 'big-brother' on anyone Ginny dated, along with the other Weasley boys.

When Ron made a joke about Potter men and redheads, Susan pointed out that Harry's paternal grandmother had been a Black, with hair as dark as her name, and if that was the case, she had a better chance than Ginny did. When the girl in question demanded to know what that meant, looking annoyed, Susan looked smug and explained that she was in Harry's year, shared some classes, and was _not _his best friend's sister, and therefore Harry's sister by proxy.

Ginny had looked ready to explode before Hannah, standing near her friend for backup, pointed out that it didn't matter either way, as Harry was still with Parvati, and unlikely to give that up for anyone.

On a double-date in Hogsmeade, Padma and Terry had mentioned that they were glad that Harry and Parvati were together, because they made a really good couple.

Sitting with Millicent, Greg and Vince, as the rest of their year was out in their respective couples (Blaise had lost a bet with Mandy Brocklehurst and had to take her to Hogsmeade as a forfeit), Roisin laughed.

* * *

The Quidditch Season was coming up, and with it, House Spirit. Slytherin House was not in the best position, as most of the House decided that there were more important things than Quidditch this year, and it only became worse when Vaisey, a Chaser, took a Bludger to the head the day before the match, and Draco came down sick on the morning of the match. He would have tried to play, sick or not, but made the mistake of going to Madam Pomfrey for a Pepper-Up Potion. The Matron diagnosed him with the 'flu and insisted on keeping him overnight, no matter how much he protested, and they were forced to use Harper, a Fifth-Year who had been the only one to turn up for the Reserve Seeker tryouts.

Roisin wanted to get her homework out of the way, and was late on her weekly letter, but had been dragged to watch the match anyway, despite her loud objections. Now she was stuck in the middle of her Housemates, all making sure that she didn't try to sneak away. On the bright side, not that she would ever say so out loud, at least she was away from Luna's lion hat.

The two teams walked out onto the field, to loud cheering. Roisin cast a mild deafening charm on herself, bringing the noise down to a manageable level. Harry and Urquhart, who was substituting for Draco, stepped forward, shaking hands under Madam Hooch's stern glare. "Mount your brooms. On the whistle… three… two… one…"

The players zoomed off, while Roisin sighed and reached for her bag, slumping back and folding her arms with a scowl when she saw Pansy removing the book that Roisin had stashed away for some surreptitious reading during the match. Resigning herself, she listened to the Commentary, provided by Zacharias Smith, now that Lee Jordan had graduated. "Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patch performance last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help…"

_So did the fact that the other candidates were either self-important divas or even worse than Ron._ Roisin sighed again as the Slytherin supporters cheered, hoping for a quick game. The non-filtered commentary wasn't too bad, though. Smith had a tendency to say it like it was; he just lacked the brain-to-mouth filter that would have made him less aggravating. "Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and – " There was a roar of approval from the mass of red and gold, and a murmur of surprise from everyone else. " – Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose…"

By the Muggle Law of Statistics, it had to happen sometime, and most of Gryffindor had been trying to cheer Ron up, as he tended to play better when he was feeling confident in himself. It was actually working quite well, though the Slytherins being down their best Chaser and with a Seeker who kept flying into other players didn't help. Within half an hour of the game, Gryffindor was leading sixty to twenty, Ron having pulled off some spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny, with the Slytherin Beaters focusing on the more-experienced Katie Bell, scoring four of the goals.

It wasn't all bad, however, as the Slytherin Keeper had blocked several more shots, and two feints had managed to get past Ron and into the goals. It had stopped Smith from wondering loudly if the two Weasleys were only on the team because of their friendship with Harry (an accusation when any known friend of any captain was on the team), and he started on the Gryffindor Beaters. "Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater, they've generally got a bit more muscle – "

Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by a sympathetic wince as a Bludger connected with Harper, courtesy of said less-muscular Beater. Somehow, he managed to stay on his broom, though he collided hard with Harry a few moments later.

The Slytherin Team scored several more goals, especially after they started using a misdirection tactic of having one Chaser fly straight at the goals, crouched low as if over the Quaffle. Ron would fly to block him, only for the Chaser to suddenly straighten, revealing that they had been crouched over thin air, while another Chaser scored with the actual Quaffle from another direction.

It wasn't enough, though, as Gryffindor was also scoring goal after goal, until Smith's voice rang out again. "And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch! Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"

He was right, as both Seekers were not shooting upward, Harper ahead but Harry quickly gaining. Even Roisin's indifferent attitude couldn't stop a slight feeling of anticipation. Gryffindor were ahead, but a win would still depend on who caught the Snitch. At the last second, Harper fumbled the catch, and the tiny golden ball flew into Harry's wide swipe.

The Gryffindor team flew toward Harry in a mass mid-air hug, but Ginny sped right on past, ignoring shouts of where she thought she was going, until she collided with the Commentator's podium, which stood between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin stands. Many of those nearby shrieked, putting up shields against flying debris, several running toward where Zacharias was feebly stirring under the wreckage.

Nearby, Ginny was being confronted by a furious Professor McGonagall, her tone perfectly blithe as she defended herself. "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry."

Carefully levitating a large piece of wood off of the unfortunate boy, Roisin nearly dropped it at the excuse. Casting diagnostic spells nearby, trying to determine the extent of the damage and where to work first, Ophelia and Hannah snarled under their breath, but focused on the more important issue while Jacob was sent running to fetch Madam Pomfrey. Ernie and Susan, friends with Smith, were not so quiet. "You '_forgot to brake'_? There was plenty of time for you to turn and angle down so you'd land on the pitch instead!"

"If you can't control your broom enough not to ram innocent bystanders, why are you on the team? Potter should have you removed as a danger to other players!"

Su Li and Terry Boot were carefully forming a hollow a few inches deep to relieve the pressure on Zach, who was confirmed to have several broken bones but no external bleeding, but looked up at the shout. "I'm no Quidditch Expert, but I'm sure that there are rules about that. I'll look it up after we make sure Smith is all right."

Harry, who may not have liked Smith, but still felt compelled to help, agreed, his face unusually serious. "I expected better after how well you performed in practice, Ginny. We have reserve Chasers, and like I told Ron, being my friend won't stop me from replacing you if you can't control yourself on the pitch."

* * *

Tensions increased as the Holidays grew closer. An overload of homework, presumably to make sure they didn't have any time to forget things over the two weeks of Christmas, put people in a bit of a snappy mood, though Hermione and Anthony, who had finally come out as a couple to those unobservant few who hadn't already guessed, seemed perfectly content to just sit and study together.

After the incident at the Quidditch Match, the Hufflepuffs were refusing to even acknowledge Ginny's existence, much less practise with her in DA lessons, which led to a lot of shuffling people around, and more than a bit of frustration. Ginny wasn't too happy, either. She and Dean were apparently going through a rough patch, and a significant portion of the school was actively avoiding her with varying degrees of subtlety. To top things off, Madam Hooch, with Professor McGonagall's agreement, had suspended her from the next Quidditch Match, and would be spending the next Hogsmeade weekend running drills on broom control. Hooch and McGonagall couldn't penalize Ginny at the Match, as the game had ended by that point, but that didn't mean that the Quidditch-mad Professors intended to let her off without punishment. Frankly, it was their only option, unless they wanted half the school screaming about partiality and favouritism.

The other good result about the fiasco was that the Four Houses had dealt with it in an unprecedented level of co-operation, without a single insult being thrown.

The Gryffindors were also a bit strained, thanks to the new relationship between Ron and Lavender, who seemed to view any time spent not kissing each other to be time wasted. The Gryffindors were the ones most subjected to the sight of them snogging each other, but even the rest of the school was forced to witness it once or twice, to their dismay.

On the only bright side that anyone could really see, Harry and Parvati's embarrassment of their respective best friends' behaviour led to even more time spent together.

* * *

Slughorn had planned a party over the Christmas Holidays, but Roisin's overseas trip meant that she would be unable to go, much to her relief. Somewhat less to her relief, several other students apparently came up with the same excuse, causing Slughorn to re-schedule it to the last night of term, when Roisin was not on patrol, and too late for her to beg someone to switch patrols, removing her last excuse.

Parvati and Padma were leaving a day early, as their family was returning to India for Christmas, so, desperate to avoid any fan girls, Harry asked Luna to come as a friend. Luna arrived in robes of spangled silver which were actually quite nice, but did draw a certain amount of attention.

Now, Roisin was dressed in her best robes, and feeling thoroughly bored, regretting that she hadn't been able to bribe someone to come up with an emergency of some kind.

By design or modification, Slughorn's office was suddenly much larger than the other offices that Roisin had been in, to give reports or hand over a miscreant. The ceiling and walls were draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, giving the impression that they were in a large tent, compounded by the ornate gold lamp filled with actual fairies that hung from the ceiling. Mandolins were accompanied by loud singing, and a haze of pipe smoke hung over the area where several elderly wizards were seated.

Having arrived early in order to get the obligatory five-minute talk with Slughorn over with, Roisin made a quick escape when the Potions Master spotted Harry and Luna, swiping a glass of punch as she went. As luck would have it, she ran straight into Rufus Scringemore, the new Minister for Magic, who spent maybe half a minute in polite small talk before asking (in not quite so many words) if she could get him an interview with Harry.

Despite the urge to bluntly inform him that the random arrests of probable-innocents made Harry more likely to hold a tea party with Snape than to willingly talk with the Minister or his lackeys, Roisin managed to be diplomatic in her refusal, suggesting that he ask Harry himself. Again, she made some hasty excuses, spotting a tall, emaciated-looking man who looked about as bored as she felt.

He was standing next to a small man with spectacles, who had been introduced earlier as Eldred Worple, author of '_Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires'_. Since that probably made the gaunt-looking man - Sanguini, if she recalled correctly - a vampire, perhaps talking to him would keep the more annoying guests away from her.

In this case, a direct approach was probably the best option. "Good evening. Do you mind if I hide next to you for a while?"

Sanguini raised an eyebrow. "A novel approach. I suppose it is better than listening to Eldred all evening. Which student were you, again?"

Roisin grimaced. "Either '_Harry Potter's Cousin' _or_ 'The One With The Rune-Spells'_; otherwise known as Roisin Dursley of the Irish O'Conner Clan. Pleased to meet you properly."

That brought a faint smile. "Sanguini of Romania. I one more person asks me if I knew Vlad Drakul personally, I shall be very annoyed."

Ah. Roisin's smile was somewhat wider. "Did you ever meet Bram Stoker?"

That prompted a small laugh. "Yes. My sisters and I had a small competition as to who could feed him the most ridiculous 'facts' about Vampires before he – 'cried bullshit', I believe is the term?"

Bram Stoker had been one of several Squibs hired to write misleading fiction about the Magical World and its more well-known species. He had known enough about the Magical World to be aware that Vampires, Werewolves and so on did exist, but was so estranged from his Pureblood family that he wasn't quite sure which was fact or fiction, and had just written everything. Roisin giggled. "Something like that. Who won?"

Sanguini looked smug, and changed the subject. "You are a Rune-Crafter, Mr Slughorn said. Do you have a specific field?"

Roisin shrugged. "Not really, more that I focus on things that will have a practical use. A rune-spell to turn a turtle into a teapot sounds nice, but unless you failed Charms and are likely to be over-run with a turtle infestation, it isn't very useful. To be fair, neither is my Music Cluster, but the Translation and Copying ones are very successful.

The vampire looked interested, and the discussion carried them through an entire hour. As it turned out, Sanguini knew quite a bit about Runes, and was more than willing to talk about it to anyone who actually cared. The complex explanation on why certain runes had to be used separately from, or in conjunction with, others would be very useful in upcoming lessons, and he only smiled indulgently when she pulled out a self-inking quill and transfigured a napkin into a roll of parchment.

They were briefly interrupted by Eldred, who was clearly under the impression that Sanguini was looking for something more substantial to drink than the glass of wine he had offered her (which may have had something to do with the deliberately-wicked look on his face as he claimed that he 'did not drink – wine') and shoved a pastry in his hand. Roisin sighed and sent an elf for either Black Pudding or a blood-replenishing potion. "Is he usually like this?"

Sanguini's expression wasn't quite long-suffering, but it came close. "He first worked as a liaison between us and various Ministries, and was amusing enough to keep around when he wanted to do more research. He does, however, have an irritating tendency to treat us as exceptionally clever pets and to act as though we could change who and what we are, if only shown the right way. My sisters find it amusing, in a three-year-old fashion."

Roisin nodded sympathetically, having a vague idea. There were a number of things that she and her Year-Mates had only got away with because the older Years thought it too juvenile to be offensive.

The next interruption was by way of Slughorn talking loudly. "Ah, Sybil, we all think our subject is the most important! But I don't think I've ever seen such a natural at Potions! Instinctive, you know – like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability – why even Severus – "

To Roisin's delighted horror, Slughorn grabbed Snape, seemingly from mid-air, draping an arm around him. Roisin really hoped that someone in Slytherin had access to a Pensive. Her muffled choking sound was sharp enough for Snape to catch, unfortunately, and Roisin ducked away, missing the rest of the conversation.

They were cut off again when Filch appeared, pulling Draco by the ear and crowing about Gate-crashers out after Curfew. The blond boy struggled away, looking irritated. "So I wasn't invited! I needed to find Roisin, and I knew she was here."

Roisin sighed and stepped forward. "I'm here; what's wrong?"

Draco stepped away from the irate caretaker. "Sienna locked herself in one of the bathrooms and won't come out. She won't talk to me or anyone male, and Millicent and Desdemona have disappeared somewhere with Pansy."

Which meant that the other three were in the Room of Requirement for Pansy's Transformation, and not coming out until morning. It sounded as though Sienna was one of those who hit puberty early. She put her glass down on a passing tray and nodded at Sanguini. "Please excuse me; I very much enjoyed our discussion." She turned to Draco. "I have an idea what is wrong. Go find… Professor Sprout, I think would be best; Madam Pomfrey is busy dealing with a few nasty colds, and find something to keep the boys occupied."

* * *

Fionna was unable to get away from the Keep, as one of the Protections had been put on hold due to the need to be performed at the Winter Solstice. Again, Roisin's family was reluctant to let her go anywhere alone, and again, Cedric was desperate for an excuse to avoid the Ministry Ball, leaving him cheerfully available to escort her. The chance to go for a ride through the Chunnel may have also had something to do with it, but Roisin wasn't about to question things.

Dudley and their parents were waiting at the Station, and Roisin practically flew into their arms. Letters just weren't the same, especially when it took a week to get there and back, and especially when you were making up for several years of lost time. Happily ensconced in a huddle of her family, they stayed that way until someone loudly complained that they were blocking the platform. In the interest of good manners, the late hour, and the suspicion of an ulterior motive, Roisin's mother offered for Cedric to stay for the night and the Grunnings Office Party the next night, which he gladly accepted.

Dinner was at a fancy restaurant, much to Winky's annoyance, but the little elf was talked around by the fact that it was a special occasion, and that it gave her time for a truly spectacular Christmas Meal of her choice.

France was truly beautiful at Christmas, even away from the bustle of Paris, though they did end up spending several days there for Roisin to see some of the sights. Cedric enjoyed the Office Party perhaps even more than Roisin did, as nobody knew him as a joint Triwizard Winner, and the eligible ladies were polite enough to back off under the impression that he was dating Roisin.

The Holidays passed in a blur of fun and family (and several omitted details of exactly how things were going in the Wizarding World), and Roisin could almost forget the war back in England as she relished being with her parents and brother again. Petunia had given a small shriek when Roisin showed off her Animagus Transformation (as a form of magic that the Ministry of Magic in either France or the UK couldn't pick up), but rallied admirably. When Roisin explained, both parents decided to deal with it by being proud and insisting that it was only natural that their daughter would manage to perform such a difficult feat.

Since Roisin's parents had always been convinced that their children could never be anything short of wonderful, she didn't question their method of coping, and allowed herself to be pleased at their only-the-tiniest-bit-forced enthusiasm.

All too soon, however, the Christmas Holidays were over, and it was time to return to Hogwarts.

_Hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: So, the next chapter is up. It's shorter than I had planned, but this was a good cut-off point and I'm already started on the next chapter._

_Now, for some reason, typos keep appearing in the uploaded document, even when I've triple-checked that they weren't there in the original Word or Profile-Edited documents, so if anyone can point them out, I'd be very grateful._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	90. We Won't Break Although We Bend

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Can I stop repeating myself yet?_

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

_**CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE**_

The first day back at Hogwarts started entirely too early, though at least Desdemona skipped the Cannon blast charm this time. Instead, she simply shook them persistently until they got up.

Still suffering a bit from jetlag, Roisin lifted her head from the pillows, sending her Housemate a baleful – if sleepy – glare. "Mmrglph."

It was no use, and they finally got up and moving, grumbling their way down the stairs into the Common Room, where they noticed a large sign pinned to the notice board.

_APPARITION LESSONS_

_If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31__st__ of August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor._

_Please sign below if you would like to participate._

_Cost: 12 Galleons_

Roisin pulled a self-inking quill out of her bag to sign up, waiting off to the side while the others followed suit. "This should be interesting, don't you think?"

Desdemona shrugged as she let Greg borrow her quill. "If not interesting, at least it'll be useful, unlike anything else a Ministry of Magic Official has done lately. I hope I pass, it would be a pain to go to the Ministry for re-testing if I fail."

Draco joined them. "Because the Ministry is a bunch of useless Wankers, or because it means admitting that you failed at something?"

Desdemona shrugged. "Either, I suppose. But we have to wait until we're seventeen to take the test."

Millicent copied the gesture. "We're in the second week of January, and Roisin and I turn seventeen in March. We might even be able to take the test early!"

Millicent wasn't the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition Lessons. All day, from breakfast to curfew, it seemed to be the main topic, at least among those eligible to learn, and those who were willing to smile and nod and listen to them.

* * *

The talk about Apparition paused the next morning, making way for a DA session.

As it was a Saturday, they held it in the morning, and Harry came in gritting his teeth. Of course, that meant instant questioning on what had him riled up. Roisin could swear that his jaw actually cracked when Harry opened his mouth. "You may or may not be aware that Snape was a Death Eater – "

He was interrupted by a chorus of "Knew it" and "Suspected it" from the Slytherin Sixth-Years and a few Ravenclaws, who had apparently guessed two years ago, when then-Headmaster Karkaroff kept trying to speak to Snape, despite it being almost impossible that they were acquainted. The most likely connection, therefore, was "Death Eater".

Several of the Slytherins had Death Eater parents, who had known Snape to be among their number, and had passed that knowledge on to their Housemates after Voldemort returned. Roisin had long since figured it out from the Order Meetings when Snape reported a few titbits gleaned from spying on Voldemort.

The rest of the DA may or may not have known, but they weren't very surprised, either. Parvati quietly encouraged her boyfriend. "Go on, Harry."

Harry sighed. "After Slughorn's Christmas Party, I overheard Snape talking to someone, threatening them and wanting to know the details of their plan. I didn't recognize the voice, and it was very quiet, so I followed then, but they disappeared. I tried to tell Dumbledore in our lesson yesterday, but he brushed me off as if it was unimportant, said that he trusted Snape and wouldn't hear a word otherwise. He actually got angry when I tried to tell him that we should at least be on the lookout."

There was a long silence.

The seeds of doubt had been planted last year, and even those who supported Dumbledore had long since accepted the fact that he wasn't playing with a full deck. The DA had accepted Harry as their leader when they followed him to the Department of Mysteries. They started to question the Headmaster's leadership after the Hogsmeade attack, when Dumbledore still insisted on showing Harry what amounted to Home Movies, rather than teaching him anything useful. This latest news made them question it even more. Draco finally spoke up. "Do you think that Snape has some kind of leverage over the Headmaster? Anyway, how did the rest of the lesson go?"

Harry sighed. "More Memories and very little information. Apparently, Riddle killed went to his mother's old home in search of his roots, killed his uncle, father and grandparents, and once asked Slughorn about something called a 'Horcrux', whatever that is. Unfortunately, the second memory – the one with Slughorn – was tampered with, and now Dumbledore wants me to spend every spare moment trying to get the real one."

Millicent huffed. "Good luck with that! Slughorn buys a few things in bulk from my parents, and if he wants to keep something a secret, Merlin himself wouldn't pry it out of him."

Anthony, sitting with Hermione, an arm around her, was next. "Ignoring that for now, what's a Horcrux?"

Roisin's first class of the new Term had been Ancient Runes, where the Sixth-Year Ancient Runes class had been given an extra credit project. It seemed that during the late 9th to early 11th centuries AD, there had been a few crackpots who thought it was fun to mix runes with other languages, which resulted in Roisin taking a crash course in basic medieval French, which was even more of a pain when you had to separate the runes from the French, and figure out which form of grammar to use to fit the two sets of words together. It didn't help that the document had clearly been written by someone with not only a limited grasp of Runes, but who was not much better at French. Staying up half the night with a copy of _Medieval French for Dummies_ was now yielding unexpected results, however. "French, from the words for 'out' and 'essence'. I will take it that Horcruxes are a bad thing?"

Harry scowled. "Given that it's Voldemort, almost certainly, but Dumbledore ended the lesson before I could ask."

Ernie frowned. "I said before that my family always supported Dumbledore, but this habit of dropping tiny bits of information when people need to know the whole picture is starting to get on my nerves."

Harry slumped down next to Parvati, who ignored Ginny's scowl as she wriggled closer. "Welcome to the club. I don't even know how Dumbledore got the tampered memory, so I can't even start with what has worked, or what NOT to do in order to avoid tipping him off!"

Roisin stared at her cousin and desperately resisted the urge to swear vividly and bash her head against the wall. "Do you mind if I tell Nana about this? I've never heard of Horcruxes before, but she does have plenty of connections and an excellent memory, so maybe she's heard something, and if we find out more about what the Horcruxes are, she can help us track them down. She's currently at Grimmauld Place, with Sirius."

Harry nodded. "Go ahead; just make sure no one can intercept it. I should probably tell Sirius, too. There might be something about Horcruxes in the Black Library. Besides, it'll give him something to do." He stood up again. "Now, I was going over the notes again, and there was a curse, '_Sectumsempra'_, with a note that it was for enemies, so we're going to practice it on dummies, rather than each other."

The Room of Requirement obliged with some very life-like dummies, and the DA got to work.

* * *

As it turned out, there were several texts in the Black Library that dealt with Horcruxes, also known as Life Vessels, Soul Jars and numerous other names. Essentially, a Horcrux was the storing of a fragment of your soul in an object of some kind, which theoretically tied your soul to the world, even if you were killed.

In the Emergency DA Meeting, the students stared at each other while Roisin read the letter from Fionna. Soul Jars? In the plural sense? No wonder Voldemort was a raving lunatic and looked barely human! The soul was the very essence of a person, deeply connected to the mind. Splitting your soul even once would probably unhinge a person, and Genocidal Megalomaniacs were not the most stable of individuals to start with. Admittedly, the 'barely human' probably had to do with years of possessing snakes and other reptiles, along with various other rituals, but multiple Horcrux attempts couldn't have helped. "Fuck."

Roisin never swore, and so it was completely understandable for Harry to be knocked slightly off-kilter. "Did you just… never mind. Did your grandmother say anything else?"

Roisin nodded and continued reading. "…'Well, no one said that Harry and Dumbledore had to be the only ones involved, and even if they did, such a foolish command will be summarily ignored. Now, we found a number of documented cases'..." There were a number of accounts, all documenting different instances and methods, but they all had one thing in common: Soul Jars didn't work.

The theorized first part was simple enough, splitting the soul and encasing part of it in some kind of vessel, which involved a short ritual and a cold-blooded murder. It was after that, when the witch or wizard died and tried to resurrect themselves or have others do it for them, where things fell flat, and the dead would-be-immortal stayed dead.

The closest anyone had come was a High Priest in Ancient Egypt, who had been resurrected as a living Mummy for seven days, then died again. Koschei the Deathless had also come close, but had only achieved near-immortality by hiding his heart, rather than his soul. Roisin personally thought that he would have lived even longer if he hadn't made the hiding place so bloody obvious. A tree guarded by a fiery dragon practically screamed 'IMPORTANT OBJECT HIDDEN HERE'!

Other cases had been documented from China, Sumer, Africa, the Slavic countries, Ancient Greece and Rome, and even a few from the British Isles, but all had proved nothing more than spectacular failures. Tithonus of Ethiopia had gained immortality, but not eternal youth, and accidentally turned himself into a grasshopper along the way. He was still luckier than most others, as the majority wound up killing themselves in painful and/or gruesome ways. The lucky ones had simply failed to have anything happen and died natural deaths.

Of course, DA representatives from each House getting together and trying to tell Dumbledore this resulted in an enigmatic smile and the offer of a lemon drop, before he informed them that it was very impressive research, but he was quite sure that Voldemort had, in fact, made several Horcruxes, and that they needed to trust him. Roisin half-expected the Headmaster to pat them on the head and tell them to 'go play'.

On the positive side, it meant that Voldemort wasn't immortal. On the other hand, they were back to square one and with no clue what they _were_ dealing with, and only Harry's connection with Voldemort to go on. A quick note sent to Grimmauld Place told Sirius and Fionna of Dumbledore's reaction, and a request that they keep looking, while Roisin went to see Madam Pomfrey for a Migraine cure.

* * *

Household Magic and Basic Finances were chosen as an elective for some and as a series of seminars and workshops for others. Either way, unless a student planned on living with their parents for a few years until they picked it up by observation, everyone took the course.

That didn't mean that everything was going smoothly. Part of the course was learning to cook at least the very basics, and while some had made the connections between Potions and Cooking (and were sensible enough to not say it out loud, in case a certain Potions Master/Defence Professor got wind of it), it was quickly determined that some people should not be let near unprepared food. Roisin had the feeling that those hapless individuals would be spending their first several months of independence eating pre-cooked meals and spiriting away the leftovers from family dinners.

Instincts well-honed by years of living with Desdemona and the O'Conner Twins, who attracted Chaos like Harry attracted Trouble, gave Roisin enough warning to duck as a feather duster flew overhead, barely missing Millicent's right ear, and buried itself an inch deep into the wall. Both girls turned to glare incredulously at Desdemona and Ron, who were working nearby and both looking sheepish.

Millicent banished a crumpled up scrap of parchment in their direction, where it bounced of Ron's head, while Roisin contented herself with rolling her eyes. Suddenly, Harry and Hermione's decisions to work with Parvati and Anthony, respectively, as soon as they saw Ron entering the classroom made a lot more sense. Desdemona might be prone to chaos wherever she went, but at least she remembered basic First-Year animation charms.

Trying to ignore everything else, Roisin went over the instructions one more time, then flicked her wand at a mop and bucket, trying to avoid making comparisons to _'The Sorcerer's Apprentice'_ score in the Muggle Disney movie _**Fantasia**_. A quick glance around hinted that several other Muggle-born or –raised students with mops or brooms were thinking the exact same thing. In fact, half-blood Anthony Goldstein had his wand out and was half-way through the wand motions for a multiple-duplication charm, Hermione trying not to laugh next to him, while Sally-Anne Perks had conjured a miniature orchestra, just to spice things up. Roisin laughed, and transfigured another scrap of parchment into a small replica of Micky Mouse in a robe.

Roisin's mother had once said that before she and Aunt Lily had parted ways, Fantasia had been one of their favourite movies. It was also the only blatantly fantasy film that Roisin and Dudley had been allowed to see, and the newly-released video cassette had been one of Roisin's Christmas gifts, the year before Hogwarts.

When she ever saw her family again, Roisin would have to demonstrate this for them.

* * *

They were starting the creation of Antidotes in Potions, using 'Golpalott's Third Law', which stated that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components.

Unfortunately, this was one thing that the Half-Blood Prince had not covered in their notes, other than the recommendation that they shove a bezoar down the victim's throat. Needless to say, that was not helpful, and since even easy-going Slughorn would hand out detention if they did nothing and produced a bezoar at the end of class, the lesson was a bit of a disappointment.

Hermione was especially smug when even the Half-Blood Prince's notes were of no use, but she was forced to back down when she also met with a distinct lack of success.

Still, they did get further than the Potions Master had expected, so Harry decided to make a try by asking him for the memory straight up.

Judging from the shouting that the loitering students could hear even through the closed door, it didn't work.

* * *

Despite his initial reaction, when Harry failed to press him further, Slughorn reverted to his prior affectionate treatment of him. Even so, he restored the Slytherins' faith that he might actually be worthy of their House by not making waves, but also not giving Harry any opportunities to question him. He suddenly didn't have time to talk to Harry after class, hustling all of the students out of the door once the bell rang, and Slug Club meetings had been postponed for the foreseeable future, since no-one had received an invitation for several weeks.

It was a set-back, but a minor one in the scheme of things, as the DA already knew all they needed to about Horcruxes, and went back to planning for when Voldemort finally made his bid for Wizarding World Domination. The general consensus was that he would start with either Hogwarts or the Ministry, though those with relatives in the Muggle World kept up almost daily correspondence, on the lookout for anything noteworthy, just in case a mildly intelligent Death Eater figured out the vast disparity in Wizarding and Muggle populations and did something about it.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was guarding the Prime Minister, but Roisin doubted that the Order had enough people to spare to protect the Opposition, the various Financial Powers, MI5 or the Military Higher-Ups, as well.

The snow finally melted in February, and was replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung low over the castle, and a constant fall of chilly rain made the grounds slippery and muddy. Not for the first time, Roisin was very glad that she had dropped Care of Magical Creatures and didn't play Quidditch. The shivering players who dripped into the Common Room after practice were often too cold to hold a wand properly, and after Vaisey accidentally set himself on fire, a rotating roster was formed, with someone waiting in the Common Room to dish out Warming and Drying Charms.

All this was driven out of people's minds, however, at the announcement of the first Apparition lesson.

Thanks to the weather and inhospitable grounds, the lesson was held inside the Great Hall, rather than outside, which was the usual location.

When the Slytherins arrived in the Great Hall the next Saturday morning, an hour after breakfast was cleared away, they found that the tables had disappeared, and the outside weather removed any chance of lessons being held outside. Rain lashed the windows, and the enchanted ceiling showed darkly-swirling clouds as they assembled in front of their Heads of House, and a small wizard who was presumably the Apparition Instructor. He was oddly colourless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a gust of wind would finish him off. Perhaps it was a side effect of the constant disappearances and reappearances involved in teaching Apparition.

The unanimous decision was for Greg to stand in front of Snape, as any attempt at using Legilimency on him would fail nearly as badly as trying to use it on Luna. Greg and Vince weren't total idiots, but they never questioned things very much, so there would be no risk of Snape catching on to any stray thoughts.

The Ministry Wizard started to speak, and everyone started to pay attention. "Good morning, my name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time – "

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" Draco had muttered a joke about the instructor's name to Vince, and been caught by Professor McGonagall, who didn't look pleased. Neither did Snape, though that was more likely to be due to the fact that Professor McGonagall had reprimanded one of his House, than any rudeness on Draco's part.

Twycross continued as though there had been no interruption. " – by which time, many of you may be ready to take your test. As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasise that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try."

Roisin hadn't known that it was possible to lower and raise wards like that, especially wards as old as the ones protecting Hogwarts. Was the Head of the School the only one able to do it? That was another thing to look into while planning a possible defence.

She quickly went back to paying attention. "I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

There was a great deal of scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. Lucky that it was only the Sixth Years currently in the Hall, or there would have been some serious issues. Finally, the Heads of House yelled for quiet, and silence fell again. Twycross waved his wand, and old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in front of each student. "The most important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds! Destination, Determination and Deliberation!"

How very helpful that was not. Roisin was worried that the dramatic pause meant the end of the instructions, but thankfully not. "Step one: fix your mind on the desired destination, in this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Everyone looked fugitively around, to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, and they weren't the only ones looking like idiots, then hastily did as they were told. Roisin tried very hard to clear her mind, focusing on the dusty patch of floor inside the hoop. "Step two: focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"

There was more than one hastily stifled giggle as his phrasing, though some, like Ernie Macmillan, were contemplating their hoops so hard that they looked as though they were trying to lay an egg. "Step three, and only when I give the command: turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! On my command, now… one… two… three!"

Forcing down her worry about having to try to Apparate so quickly, Roisin spun on the spot and failed to get anywhere.

Looking around, she was one of the lucky ones. Most students had lost their balance. Neville was lying flat on his back. Ernie had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop, and looked thrilled until he caught sight of Dean and Millicent roaring with laughter.

Twycross did not seem to have expected anything better, and Roisin wondered if it had been his own little joke, though probably not, as no-one could be expected to get it right on the first try. "Never mind, never mind. Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions…"

The second and third attempts were just as bad and no-one got anywhere. The fourth try, however, yielded mixed results. Screams of pain revealed that Susan was wobbling in her hoop, while her left leg was still standing five feet away, in its original position. Padma's right arm had made it into the hoop, but the rest of her hadn't. Roisin landed in her hoop, and promptly fell flat, gaining a nasty crack on the skull, which temporarily distracted her from the fact that both arms and her right leg were conspicuously absent.

The various Heads of House converged on them; there were loud bangs and puffs of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal three students crying with shock or pain or horror, but reunited with their missing limbs. Several glares were aimed at Twycross when he dispassionately explained what had happened. "Splinching, or the separation of random body parts, occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually on your destination, and move without haste, but with deliberation… thus."

He demonstrated with outstretched arms and a swirl of his robes, which would have been much more useful if he had done it in the first place. "Remember the three D's and try again… one… two… three."

Perhaps it was the shock of seeing a Splinching close up, and the instinctive reluctance to have it happen to them, but nothing else happened for the rest of the hour, aside from a fine collection of bruises gained from falling on the floor, along with a slew of swearwords and subsequent detention when Vince tried to pat Roisin sympathetically, but accidentally hit the lump on her head.

Twycross was the only one who didn't seem discouraged, as he fastened his cloak and vanished the hoops. "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget_: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."_

* * *

Everything was relatively quiet for a few weeks, then made up for the lull with a vengeance.

Upon her return from France over the Christmas Holidays, Roisin had more than once thanked the Gods that her family were safely away from England.

Voldemort was no longer in hiding, and had celebrated his return with Muggle-Killings that eclipsed any he had performed in his first rise. More and more frequently, those Muggles included the relatives of various Muggle-Born witches and wizards.

Slytherin had few families who had openly supported the light, even fewer Muggle-Borns, and most of the neutral families, so black envelopes were delivered to that table with much less frequency, but the black letters heralding death, or more often the dove-grey 'Bad-News' letters were still a far-too-common sight at the other tables.

Unfortunately, while Slytherin had few Muggle-Borns, they still had some, and one day Roisin looked up to see an owl winging it's way to the Slytherin table, clutching a black envelope. It was headed toward David Sutton.

The Second-Year had been happily chatting to his friends, only to fall silent as he spotted the owl. Roisin exchanged a look with Draco as she stood up, and he nodded. "We'll take care of getting your notes and assignments for today. Good luck."

Roisin hurried over to where the Second-Years were seated, just in time to see David's face crumple. Easing the letter out of his hand, she tucked it into a sleeve pocket. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you out of here." She looked at the others, "Can I trust you to get his work and explain to your professors?" They all nodded seriously and she turned to snap at the other students who had started to cluster around. "Does this look like a spectator sport? Go back to your own business and let us through!"

David made it to the Common Room and a quiet niche near the fireplace before he broke down. Roisin could do nothing but hold him, rocking the young boy gently as he cried. Carefully extracting the letter from her sleeve and shaking it open, Roisin read the missive.

'_Dear Mr Sutton, the Ministry of Magic regrets to inform you that as a result of a Death Eater raid, your parents were killed last night. Your younger brother still lives, and is under the care of a friend of your family until arrangements can be made._

_Sincerely,_

_Peter Weatherby,_

_Muggle Relations.'_

Argh, the Ministry couldn't even get a condolence letter right! She tried to remember if David had ever mentioned extended family, and if Draco had mentioned provisions for orphans in the Wizarding World in his Government elective. She would have to look into that later. Professor Snape was not the kind of person who tended to inspire feelings of comfort, so dealing with bad news usually fell to the Prefects. She would have to arrange for David to return home for a few days, find a lawyer to deal with the estate if the Suttons didn't already have one, arrangements for permanent living placement for David's brother, read up on if scholarships were available or if David's parents had left enough to cover the rest of his education, especially if David's brother also turned out to be a wizard…

* * *

David had lived in a middle-class neighbourhood in Surry, his brother Ian currently being watched by a family friend who lived about half an hour's drive away and had come over for a few days until arrangements could be made. It was to this house that a grieving twelve-year-old and a tall young woman, both dressed in black, arrived on an overcast Friday evening, the day after they had received the letter. The door was opened by an older woman, who gave Roisin an odd look and immediately enfolded David in a warm hug.

Roisin correctly understood the look. "I'm Roisin Dursley, a prefect at David's school. He received a letter yesterday, notifying him of his parents' death. I'm here to help however I can."

The woman nodded, ushering them both inside. "Of course. I'm Mrs Reed, David's aunt. My husband and I have been looking after Ian since _it_ happened. Thank heaven he wasn't caught in the explosion as well."

David spotted a young boy of about seven sitting and staring out a window at nothing in particular. Roisin recognized the look from the one she had worn after Sean and Sorcha had been killed; the look of one who has suffered a loss that hasn't quite sunk in yet. David instantly ran over, hugging his sibling, and Roisin retreated to talk to Mrs Reed. "What actually happened? The letter wasn't very specific."

Mrs Reed nodded. "Terrible thing. They were on a night out together and apparently got caught up in some Gang action. Ian managed to hide, or they just missed him, but my brother and his wife – Right in the middle of town, too. At least ten dead, many others badly hurt or in some kind of vegetable state – just horrible."

Roisin returned the nod. That sounded a bit like accidental magic on Ian's part, but she could worry on that later. "Do you know what arrangements have been made? David's schooling is paid for until the end of the year, at least, though I'll have to find out if it was paid beyond that, but we'll need to figure out what to do about Ian, and what will happen to both of them."

Mrs Reed agreed with her. "I'll ask the Solicitor about it when I see him tomorrow. I know they made Wills." She hesitated for a moment. "Don't think that I'm not appreciative, dear, but you can't be more than a student yourself. Shouldn't one of your Professors be doing this?"

It was a fair question. "In most cases, yes, it would fall to the Head of House. Unfortunately, our Head of House is not the comforting sort, and there was an incident several years ago when he escorted a student to a funeral and was mistaken for the grim reaper by a relative with an overactive imagination." (That was probably just a rumour, but better than saying that Professor Snape was a callous bastard whose idea of 'comfort' was to _not_ give out detention for interrupting him) "He's left it to the older Prefects after that."

Mrs Reed nodded (every school had one teacher who you just didn't see for anything except schoolwork), but still looked worried. "I suppose, but won't it affect your schooling? My husband is on the local school board, I'm sure he can arrange something…"

If Hogwarts had been a Muggle School, that would have been ideal, but it wasn't. "I arranged with the Professors to send us our work while we are away." (Well, she had left it up to Draco, but every Professor aside from Snape would probably give her some leeway) "I may have to make up for the practical portions later, but the bookwork should be fine, and I asked one of my friends to dig out our Second-Year class notes. Thank you for the offer, though."

* * *

Neither the Reeds nor David's house had much room for guests, especially with the rest of the admittedly large family coming for the funeral, and when you're grieving, it isn't really time for focusing on manners for guests. Luckily, the Suttons didn't live more than a few suburbs away from Little Whinging, and while Number Four, Privet Drive was mostly closed up, the Harry-Powered protections were still there, and the lack of amenities was nothing that take-out meals, battery-operated substitutes and a determined House Elf like Winky couldn't get around, once Roisin thought to tell her.

She spent the next few days running the little errands that those planning the funeral didn't have time to do, especially when the extended Sutton family all had opinions on how it should be arranged, and Mrs Reed was already grinding her teeth.

Privet Drive also provided a quiet place for her and David to do their schoolwork, usually accompanied by Ian, and that was what they were doing when Roisin brought up an uncomfortable subject. "Do both of you have something appropriate to wear for Saturday?"

Both boys nodded, before the reality they had been trying to ignore kicked in again, and Roisin found herself with an armful of upset children. It had been hard when she witnessed Sean and Sorcha being killed, but this was worse, because two young boys had lost their parents, and there was nothing she could do to help.

* * *

Roisin finished transfiguring her robes into a black dress for the day and had started to pull her hair into a bun when there was a series of '_pop's_ and she spun around, wand in hand.

She relaxed when she saw that it was Draco and the other Second-Years, all appropriately dressed. Draco looked singularly uncomfortable, though whether it was the Muggle clothing or the occasion was up for debate. "Sorry, you have no idea how hard it was to convince the House Elves to sneak us out and not tell Dumbledore. We even had to ask Potter for help."

The fact that Draco had even considered asking, or that Harry had agreed to help, was impressive in and of itself, and Roisin smiled at him. "I assume the others are covering for your absence?"

Draco nodded. "Pansy reminded me, but yes. Our Year, the DA and the Seventh-Years volunteered to make our excuses. They all know not to look Snape or Dumbledore – or any other Professors - straight in the eyes, too."

That was good. There wasn't going to be a Wake (though the story behind the naming had resulted in a faint smile from Ian) and Mrs Reed had volunteered herself and her husband as temporary guardians until something could be officially worked out. Roisin slipped her wand up her sleeve, picking up her keys and the Portkey that would take them back to Hogwarts. "Come on, and just follow my lead."

* * *

The sky was grey and cloudy, turning the winter landscape even bleaker. The small crowd was silent as they gathered around the freshly-dug grave, a cluster of black on the white snow. There was a respectful silence as the two coffins were lowered into the earth, the priest closing his book and bowing his head.

Slowly, in ones and twos, and then in groups, the crowd began to disperse. Some glanced back at the group of students, murmuring how nice it was that David had formed such close friendships, and that it must be a very good school, if Prefects were trusted with such responsibility as escorting the younger ones. Ian hugged his brother again as Mrs Reed came over to take him home. David hugged the older woman in thanks before following the two Prefects, safely ensconced within a huddle of his friends.

Walking out of the graveyard, the group of schoolchildren ducked into an alley, where a stray cat was the only one to see the oldest girl pull a folded piece of cardboard out of her bag and tap it with a long stick. The others gathered around her, holding onto the board.

Dustbins clattered as they vanished, and the terrified cat streaked back out of the alley, fur on end.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: OK, the next chapter is up. The next one may be a bit late, as I have work placement next week, but I'll do my best._

_So, Hogwarts has some normal times, some funny times, and times when its students really band together when it matters. Once again, the War has touched their lives in a big way, and it won't be the last._

_Also, there are a few hints in this chapter that will become very important later on._

_I hope you like how I handled the Horcrux matter, and Harry being suspicious of Snape. Dumbledore might not be willing to listen, but in this version, Harry isn't so much of a 'Dumbledore's Man' as Scringemore might like to think. Mrs Weasley and the Order might have tried to clear all of the 'dangerous' books out of Grimmauld Place, but I'd put money on the Blacks having ways to stop their books from being outright destroyed or stolen. Plus, a family as Dark as that __had__ to have plenty of Dark Arts books floating around, and if Slughorn and Riddle know so much about Horcruxes, that means that something was documented somewhere._

_For more opinions on Horcruxes, check out my one-shot humour-fic; '__The Trouble With Horcruxes'_

_Thanks, Nat_


	91. Looming Darkness and A Ray of Hope

_Disclaimer: After ninty-one chapters, and as many stories, you'd think I'd be allowed to skip this by now. I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY**

Apparition lessons continued, and a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration ran high and there was a certain amount of hostility toward Wilkie Twycress and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames. Some of the nicer ones were 'Dog-breath' and 'Dung-head', though Roisin was starting to prefer 'Defenestration, D-Extermination, D-Elimination'.

Ron fell afoul of a box of Love Potion-treated Chocolate Cauldrons on his birthday in March, leading to some very embarrassing attempts to demonstrate his passion for Romilda Vane, but had been solved by the other Sixth-Year Gryffindor boys tackling him and dragging him off to Slughorn to have a cure shoved down his throat.

It took days before Roisin could even look at him without bursting into giggles, though the incident was overshadowed by Roisin's birthday and her formal bonding of Winky, given the little House Elf's joy at properly belonging to a family again.

* * *

Research on how Voldemort had managed to survive also continued, as Dumbledore presumably continued his hunt for Horcruxes. When Dumbledore admitted that the memory he wanted from Slughorn was to do with Horcruxes, Harry abandoned it altogether and focussed on more important things.

The most common DA theory was that Voldemort had pretended to make Horcruxes and let it leak out to a very few people, in an attempt to draw attention away from anything else he might have done, as there were certainly rituals to ensure long-life which were more effective, but also gave off more of a resonance to their location and perpetrator.

Some of them were even considered light Magic, such as one that was used to strengthen a very sickly child, to ensure that it reached adulthood or the ritual blessing at a wedding or birth-celebration, toasting "long life and good health", though that was more the power of intent, the strength based on how many people genuinely meant it.

Roisin was actually rather glad that the handsome, charismatic Tom Riddle probably hadn't considered that one.

* * *

Hermione, Parvati, Desdemona, Roisin and Harry were in the library, looking through a book that Sirius had asked Dobby to deliver to Harry, as Owl-Post was now being screened. Anthony and Theo were browsing the shelves for anything else that might be useful, when Harry suddenly looked up. "Maybe that's it!"

The four girls all looked up, giving him looks of patient confusion. "Maybe what is what? Please elaborate."

Harry looked faintly contrite. "Roisin, do you remember when Hagrid first told us about Magic? He said that he didn't think that Voldemort had enough human left in him to die! He certainly would have done enough rituals to cut away a lot of his humanity! Maybe that's how he didn't die when he attacked that night!"

There were certainly worse theories, but Desdemona frowned. "But the killing curse works on animals, too, so humanity might not have that much to do with it. How do you explain that?"

Parvati had suddenly bolted upright and started leafing through a book of legends from her own family, who were surprised, but willing to accept the explanation about the_ 'sudden revelation that never matching Padma didn't mean she shouldn't work harder academically'_. From the large box of candy and heavy letter that accompanied the book, there was probably going to be a Family Conversation in the not-too-distant future. Parvati stopped on the page she was looking for. "Here! I was looking into Divination, just in case Professor Trelawney had given a real prophecy, and I found something interesting. Essentially, it suggests that the force of a Prophecy carries a great amount of power of its own. Voldemort marked you that night, but you weren't his equal yet, so when the Killing Curse rebounded, he _couldn't_ die, because the Prophecy hadn't been fulfilled yet!"

Roisin lit up, searching through the notes they had made. "Not to mention that you were only a year old, so the '_power he knows not'_ might not have manifested or been realized yet!"

Even Hermione, whose disdain of Divination was legendary, lit up, as footsteps heralded the return of Theo and Anthony. "That actually makes sense! If the parameters of an equation are not met, then the desired result won't be achieved!" she took in the blank faces of Desdemona and the other Gryffindors, the confusion from the remaining two Slytherins, and the dawning comprehension from her boyfriend. "The conditions of the Prophecy weren't fulfilled, so while whatever Lily Potter did would have worked on anyone else, it could only banish Voldemort, rather than killing him!"

Anthony picked her up and spun her around, kissing her. "I love it when you talk Magical Theory! It fits, way better than the disproven Horcrux theory! We have a real starting point! Hermione, I love you!"

Roisin tried to look elsewhere, as Harry kissed Parvati for coming up with the theory and Theo and Desdemona joined in for the heck of it. Sometimes, being the single one out really sucked. Harry was grinning broadly, "I promise I'll never openly criticise Divination again, and you are wonderful."

It was a good thing that they had managed to find a solution, because their celebrations had attracted Madam Pince, who could spot a disturbance faster than even Professor McGonagall, and threw them all out.

Their Homework and research finished for the day, Anthony and Hermione left in one direction to 'console' each other on loss of library privileges until the weekend, Roisin turned toward the Owlery to write the theory to those not at Hogwarts, and the others headed to their Common Room.

* * *

The Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch Match was also fast approaching, though Ron's love potion incident meant that he would be unable to play, and the Gryffindors would have to use McLaggen, instead.

Perhaps Roisin's opinion of the Seventh-Year was coloured by his second attempt to ask her out, and his comment that if she objected to their being in different houses, they could always just be enemies with benefits. Roisin still maintained that kicking him in the balls was more than worth the detention.

Unfortunately for Roisin, her detention fell on the day of the match, which meant that she would not get to witness Luna commentating. People had been starting to suspect that Luna, though certainly quirky enough in her own way, was not quite as batty as she seemed, and the blonde Ravenclaw had been planning to simultaneously get back at Smith and re-enforce her reputation. Roisin had actually been looking forward to it.

She changed her mind when the tedious pass-time of ignoring Ron (Madam Pomfrey was tired of having Roisin burst into spontaneous giggles) while rolling bandages and folding blankets for Madam Pomfrey was interrupted by Harry being floated in by Padma, followed by an anxious Parvati. Roisin's eyes widened in alarm, "What happened?"

Parvati growled something in Hindi under her breath, hovering over Harry's bed as Madam Pomfrey bustled over and started casting diagnostic charms. Padma explained. "McLaggen was being an idiot, and actually grabbed a bat off one of the beaters, like he was showing him how to swing it properly, and the bat connected with Harry's head when he flew over to tell the prat to keep his mind on Keeping."

Roisin's eyes narrowed as she glanced at the clock, noting that she still had an hour to go before she was out of detention. She quickly checked to make sure Madam Pomfrey was occupied. "Do you think anyone would mind if I hexed him very badly once the match and my detention are over?"

Padma huffed. "I think everyone except Hufflepuff and Slytherin might help you; there's no way Gryffindor can win, now, and Hufflepuff is going to rack up the score as long as they can, especially now that they've figured out that McLaggen will be too busy telling everyone how to do their job to do his and guard the goals."

A slow, menacing smile curled Roisin's lips as she imagined the possibilities. The Slytherins might have been pleased about Gryffindor losing, but they didn't like McLaggen, either, and would be more than willing to swear that she had an alibi, in the event that McLaggen tried to complain. "Excellent."

* * *

Unfortunately, by the time she got out and hunted McLaggen down, the Gryffindors had got there first, and Madam Pomfrey put a barrier around the hospital bed, in case anyone else was looking to take a turn.  
Also unfortunately, McLaggen had seen Roisin glaring at him and had been jumping at shadows and refusing to go anywhere alone, which made getting revenge on him too much trouble for the moment.

Harry was released from the Hospital Wing just in time to be summoned for another meeting with Dumbledore, which went about as well as anyone could have expected. That meant that a very irate Harry left the meeting gritting his teeth, and called a DA meeting the next day.

No one was expecting good news, but they weren't expecting what Harry related to them, either. "About the only useful thing I got out of him was that Voldemort once applied to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and supposedly cast a curse on the position when he was rejected. Of course, Given that no DADA teacher has lasted over a year since, I think we can assume that he succeeded. The rest of the time was taken up by watching the memory of a House Elf whose Mistress was once visited by Riddle and showed him some family treasures, which 'mysteriously' went missing afterward, and trying to guilt-trip me about not getting the Memory from Slughorn, no matter how hard I tried to tell him about the other theory we came up with!"

Dumbledore was not gaining popularity with the DA, and was actually losing it at a very fast rate. Again, Roisin found herself resisting the urge to bang her head against something, or throw something large at Dumbledore's head, and the others looked even less pleased. Smith sighed. "The House Elf was probably Hokey, my great aunt's House Elf. I haven't always agreed with Dumbledore, but this is getting ridiculous. Why don't you just stop going?"

Harry sighed. "Because the memories do, on very scarce occasions, turn up something potentially useful, and we can't give up even the slightest bit of information, especially if he actually does start teaching me spells at some point. Believe me; I like it even less than you do."

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons were also plummeting in popularity.

The only thing that had changed about Professor Snape was the location of his classroom. He still bullied and insulted everyone except his favourite Slytherins, and even they were getting fed up, as it didn't do anything to endear them to their schoolmates. Also, singling out Roisin, Desdemona, and a few from the other years had caused a split and opened a few eyes. After years of being told that Slytherins needed to stand together against the rest of the school and that Snape would be the one professor always on their side, once he started extending his biased cruelty to select Slytherins, the rest started wondering just how much they could trust the other things he told them.

Today's DADA lesson was no exception.

Harry rushed in less than half a minute late, while most of the class was still on their feet taking out books. "Late again, Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."

The fact that Draco rushed in as a scowling Harry was taking out his books, and was not docked points, did not help anything. Exchanging glances of mutual resignation to another two hours of hell, both Houses settled in. "Before we start, I want your Dementor essays," Snape waved his wand carelessly, causing twenty-five scrolls of parchment to soar over to his desk and land in a neat pile. "And I hope for your sake that they are better than the tribe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse."

Roisin was willing to bet that most of those Third-Year and up would have done very well on the Dementor Essay, given the presence of about a hundred of the monsters three years ago, but she doubted that the marks would necessarily reflect that. Before this year, Harry had averaged barely an A in Potions, while Draco never got less than an EE, despite the quality of their work. This year, while DADA had previously been Harry's best subject, his grades had drastically reduced from an O to an A, and that most likely because Snape would be hard-pressed to explain why Harry had suddenly dropped from the highest Pass grade to a failing one.

She quickly returned to paying attention, before Snape could notice and penalize her for something. "Now, if you will all open your books at page – what is it, Mr Finnigan?"

More than one person was surprised that Seamus had actually spoken, as most students just didn't say anything they didn't have to in Snape's class, mostly due to the fact that you tended to get detention just for opening your mouth. "Sir, I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the _Daily Prophet_ about an Inferius – "

Roisin cast her mind back to the _Prophet_ that morning. Oh, the article about Mundungus Fletcher being arrested for impersonating an Inferius during a robbery. When he had been caught trying to fence items stolen from Grimmauld Place, including goblin-silver goblets and a selection of the Black Family Jewels, Dumbledore had managed to block the efforts of a livid Sirius and a just as angry Harry (a silver picture frame that had previously held a picture of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius had also been among the stolen items), insisting that Fletcher was too useful to the Order to be in Azkaban.

The DA hadn't been too pleased about that Judgement Call, either, when they managed to get the story of why Harry was stalking around with a thundercloud over his head (literally; the ambient magic in Hogwarts did funny things on occasion). Roisin imagined that they were much happier about the fact that Fletcher couldn't weasel out of this one so easily, without Dumbledore having to answer several very uncomfortable questions.

Snape didn't seem to care either way, but he never cared much about other people's misfortune, unless it was to taunt them about it. His tone was bored. "No, there wasn't."

"But sir, I heard people talking – "

Snape looked annoyed, which caused several people who had been about to correct Seamus to quickly close their mouths. "If you had actually read the article in question, Mr Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak-thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher." He whirled on Harry, who had muttered something that sounded suspiciously like '_good'_. "But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject. Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost."

Harry quickly recovered, snapping into 'teacher-mode'. "The quickest way to tell is that ghosts are only shades of a dead person, and therefore transparent, while an Inferius is the solid, animated corpse – "

Snape interrupted, probably disappointed at what was obviously going to be a clear and concise answer. "Oh, very good. Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of Magical Education have not been wasted on you, Potter. _Ghosts are transparent._"

Snape's curling lip was matched by the sneers aimed at him by all students not within his line of sight. Harry took a deep breath, obviously struggling to remain calm. "Inferi are dead bodies, and therefore solid, which is a good way to tell the difference without getting close enough for the Inferius to – "

Snape interrupted again, sneering to drown his least favourite student out. Most likely, he was having a difficult time justifying why Harry was achieving such low marks, and Harry giving good answers within the hearing of potential witnesses wouldn't help. "A five-year-old could have told us as much. The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark Wizard's spells. It is not alive; it is merely used as a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth… and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, _transparent."_

Given that this was exactly what Harry had just said, only with more insults, few people were impressed. Ron vocally took Harry's side first. "Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart! When we come face to face with one in a dark alley we're going to have a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

There were several hastily stifled giggles, including several from the Slytherin side of the class. Snape glared. "Another ten points from Gryffindor. I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, a boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as he started to open his mouth, but Snape was the only one smirking, as about half the class was still having trouble Apparating, and Ron had actually managed to Apparate into the hoop last weekend, even if that was only five feet away. Snape smirked at the lack of reply. "Now open your books at page two hundred and thirteen, and read the first two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse. I do not want any interruptions…"

Roisin rolled her eyes from her seat next to Pansy, who was recovering from last night's full moon, (Roisin had been away escorting David to his parent's funeral the month before that) and bracing herself for tonight. It wasn't as bad as the transformation of a true werewolf, of course, but it was still very draining for the other girl, and she needed to be prodded out of drowsiness regularly. "Remind you of last year, at all? No questions, no talking, side helping of insults…"

Unfortunately, she hadn't been paying attention to Snape's location, and as a result, her voice wasn't quite low enough. She managed not to look scared when her Head of House spoke from three rows away. "Detention next weekend, Miss O'Conner, and twenty points from Slytherin, which I leave to you to explain to your House."

That wouldn't be too bad, since most of the House would probably agree with her, given the current climate, and the minority would keep their mouths shut. It would be a nuisance to miss one of the Apparition Practice sessions, but not the end of the world, as the actual test wasn't for a fortnight. Roisin shrugged, opened her book, and began reading, trying not to smirk at Snape's obvious disappointment at her lack of response.

* * *

Roisin spent Saturday cataloguing files of Dark Creatures, and Sunday disembowelling frogs for potions ingredients, imagining that each frog was a transfigured Snape, until Slughorn found them and took offence, as he was the current Potions Master. Not willing to let Roisin out of detention all together, Snape handed her punishment over to Slughorn, who felt that asking a question of a classmate during a lesson did not warrant two days of detention, and let her spend the rest of the day working on her homework and a letter to her family.

Her parents had been repeating that they were very proud of how she was handling herself, especially when she had written them about David and Ian's parents. There wasn't much that they could do at the moment, other than offer their condolences, especially since the boy's care now fell to one of their many relatives, but the support meant a lot.

On a brighter note, nearly everyone who had been having trouble Apparating was doing much better, and Ron had actually managed to Apparate from a field just outside of Hogsmeade to Scrivenshaft's, though he had been aiming for Madam Puddifoot's, but overshot it slightly. Even Vince, who until then had been having no success at all, had managed a few feet.

Perhaps it was to do with not being inside Hogwarts, under the scrutiny of your entire year, who were almost certainly going to laugh at any failure of yours to take attention away from their own lack of success.

* * *

A very small part of Roisin wondered if the Death Eaters might have learned from the last time, where Hogwarts students were about the only ones to fight back, because the weekend had a distinct lack of mysterious disappearances or deaths in the Muggle or Magical world.

Unfortunately, it didn't last, as Tuesday brought another attack on Hogsmeade, though the Death Eaters were not yet quite daring enough to go for Hogwarts itself, and a simultaneous attack on Diagon Alley, which explained why Aurors had been so slow to respond to the attack on Hogsmeade. Ironically, WWW came out fine, and actually managed to capture a few Death Eaters with some kind of enchanted Silly String, a spectacularly sniper-precision aimed Fainting Fancy, and two who had accidentally knocked each other out when trapped in a cloud of Instant Darkness Powder.

Even worse, the two attacks meant that St Mungo's was so full that they were diverting everything but the most extreme cases. As one Healer, who had a cousin in the States, had said: "We're swamped worse than New Orleans after a Hurricane has visited. No one's being admitted unless they're at death's door, or already through it!"

The various medi-wizards and –witches not attached to St Mungo's were nearly as bad, trying to deal with not only their regular clients, but also everyone not injured badly enough for St Mungo's. As a result, the Hogwarts Hospital Wing was also being pressed into service, and taking volunteers from the older students to help transport people, and assist with the families of those injured, especially those with children too young to take care of themselves. NEWT students who intended to study Healing were getting some first-hand experience, acting as Madam Pomfrey's assistants. Despite the circumstances, Roisin had to smile when she heard Millicent threaten one of the patients with an enema if they didn't shut up and drink their potions. Given Millicent's size and muscular build, the patient believed her, and suddenly became very co-operative.

The only people even close to happy were the House Elves, who were professionally pleased to have the extra work of setting up empty classrooms or unused visitors quarters as temporary accommodation for those whose homes had been destroyed or too badly damaged to live in. That didn't mean that they were pleased at the loss of life, but someone needed to find a bright-spot, and the students and Hogsmeade residents certainly weren't.

Fleur, who had plenty of spare time when she wasn't planning the wedding, was surprisingly good with the younger children, though perhaps that had to do with having a much-younger sister of her own. Molly Weasley, also largely unoccupied, was putting her experience with looking after a large family to great use, which eased the strain somewhat.

To the Slytherin Sixth-Years' private amusement, Blaise, who had no interest in healing and was spectacularly horrible with young children, was doing duty as a cat for a few elderly witches, who had no immediate family able to come and support them. He was currently giving the milk jugs and any dish containing seafood baleful glares at meal times, thoroughly sick of both, but he didn't complain.

The worst part was the newly-orphaned, or nearly-so. Hogsmeade was a totally Wizarding village, and many families were still recovering from losing several family members in the last war. Many young children had parents who would be in the hospital for a long time, or had been killed, and had no immediate relatives to stay with. The Ministry had been making noises about setting up a temporary foster system, but Roisin doubted that the idea would move very fast. Nothing that might actually be useful ever did, when the Ministry got involved.

Right now, she was working on her homework while supervising naptime for a group of ten children whose parents were under Madam Pomfrey's care. Hearing one infant, orphaned at only a few months old, start to whimper in what she was quickly coming to realize as the onset of a night terror, Roisin hastily put down her quill and hurried over to the cot, picking the tiny boy up and rocking him in her arms. If one child started crying loud enough to wake someone else up, it set off every single one of the others, which was not a good thing.

Sitting back down and humming a lullaby, Roisin fought back tears. She just wanted this war to be over!

* * *

When her babysitting shift was over, Roisin turned them over to Mary, and gathered her Second-Years, plus a few other First- and Second-Years from other Houses, around her for a quick meeting. "Listen, I know all of you are having a hard time right now, but I need your help."

To their credit, they straightened up, ready for action, rather than complaining about the extra work. Erin stepped forward, head held high. "What can we do?"

Roisin bit her lip. "You know that the attack on Hogsmeade ended with a lot of people injured or dead, and several kids without families able to care for them. I know it isn't your job to step in, and the teachers have told everyone below Third Year to focus on their schoolwork, but I need you to just be there for those kids. You're young enough to know what it's like to be away from your parents for an extended period for the first time, and to be a big sibling for them, or to be a friend. Show them that they're not alone. Spend some time with the adults who have lost children, and don't complain if they want to fuss over you a little."

A Ravenclaw First-Year whose name Roisin couldn't instantly recall raised his hand. "We can write to our families about maybe taking in one or two of the orphans, and the Widow Wensleydale was saying something about how her home was still intact, and big enough for a few more, and her income could certainly manage a few mouths to feed."

A Gryffindor Second-Year backed him up. "Mum said that the Ministry was making noises about a foster system, but she didn't trust them to organize a piss-up in a brewery," (Roisin stifled a snicker) "Maybe we should save time and organize it ourselves."

Jia Li stepped forward. "If someone can figure out where the official records for the dead, injured or missing are, we can put together a database to figure out who has the most urgent needs, what resources we have, and who can be helped the fastest."

Another Ravenclaw pulled out a piece of parchment, starting to take notes. "If someone lost a child, their clothes and toys would probably still be there, and until puberty, there isn't much of a physical difference between boys and girls; certainly nothing a few sewing charms can't fix."

David joined them. "I know we don't get much in the way of pocket money, but a little from many makes a lot. If every student donated a few sickles or something, we could get a start on a fund to buy things or hire people to make repairs. I know that there was a fair bit of structural damage." He paused a moment, but took a deep breath and continued. "My parents had something in place to pay for their funerals and set up a trust for my brother and me, when they died. Does the Wizarding World have things like that?"

Roisin didn't know, but Draco's Government class had covered that a few weeks ago (the entire Common Room had heard him complaining about how bloody dry Legal Documents were). "I don't know, but I can find out. Those were some very good ideas, all of you."

It was sad that it took a tragedy of this magnitude to get it started, but it was also nice to see Hogwarts ditching House Barriers and pulling together like this.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: Work Placement is finally over, though I haven't got my results yet. My legs and feet are still protesting being forced to stand or do much more than shift position, so I should have plenty of time for writing over the next week._

_For anyone who's interested in the Avengers, I've started a new fic in that Genre, titled __Reintroduction__, though it won't stop me from keeping up with __The Dursley Witch__, and I could use a bit of feedback on both stories. Constructive Criticism is one of the best rewards a writer can receive. Seriously, I like being told what I'm doing wrong._

_On an interesting side note, Sixth-Year is shaping up to be the shortest year yet, despite being one of the longest books. No real point to mentioning that, but it is still interesting._

_Thanks, Nat  
_


	92. The Beginning of the End

_Disclaimer: The characters were like that when I found them, I swear! Anyway, I don't own them, I'm just playing with them._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETY-ONE**

It was Saturday again, and the Apparation test was in the afternoon. Those old enough to take it were sitting around trying to memorize a Ministry of Magic leaflet: _Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them._ For the most part, it wasn't helping anyone's nerves, but at least the constant repetition gave them something to concentrate on besides mindless panic.

It also took their minds off trying to work out the Prophecy. Having determined a possible reason for Voldemort not dying, the DA were now going over what the needed conditions might be. 'Marked as his equal' was obvious, and had already been fulfilled, but 'the power he knows not' was proving a bit more difficult.

Right now, however, Roisin was sitting with Parvati, Harry, Ron and Hermione in the sunny courtyard, and Roisin was keeping herself relaxed by watching in amusement when Ron tried to hide every time a girl came around the corner. Hermione was not quite so tolerant. "It isn't Lavender."

Ron also relaxed. "Oh, good."

The girl approached them. "Harry Potter? I was asked to give you this."

Harry looked frustrated as he took the small scroll of parchment. "Dumbledore said we wouldn't be having any more lessons until I got the memory!"

Roisin's opinion of Dumbledore dropped another notch. If Harry didn't have the memory, then why couldn't Dumbledore use the time to teach Harry something useful, instead? There had to be some advanced spells that could be useful in a fight, or a study of the spells that Voldemort used most often (aside from Avada Kedavra, of course), or something!"

Hermione shrugged as Harry unrolled the Parchment. "Maybe he wants to check on how you're doing? Did you actually tell him that you were ditching the memory-search in favour of the theory we came up with?"

If Harry had, Dumbledore was probably practicing selective memory, but when Roisin leaned over her cousin's shoulder, the handwriting showed that the message was clearly not from Dumbledore.

'_Dear Harry, Ron and Hermione,_

_Aragog died last night. Harry and Ron, you met him and you know how special he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favourite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out that late, but you can use the Cloak. Wouldn't ask but I can't face it alone._

_Hagrid._

Roisin spluttered as Harry showed the parchment to first Parvati, whose eyes flashed with the promise of trouble and a hint of confusion, before she passed it to Hermione, who passed it onto Ron, "Oh, for heaven's sake."

Ron looked incredulous as he read, but it didn't take long for relief to turn to anger. "He's _mental!_ That thing told it's mates to eat Harry and me! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!"

Parvati and Roisin had a different problem. "Who's Aragog?"

Ron wasn't paying too much attention, continuing his rant. "A bloody great Acromantula in charge of the colony in the Forbidden Forest! I don't care how much Hagrid wants us there, Harry, I'm not going!"

Roisin's brain shut down for a moment, and Parvati was looking even more furious, as Hermione pointed out the other problem. "It's not just that! He's asking us to leave the castle at night, and he knows that security's a million times tighter and how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught."

"We've been down there at night before." Harry's voice was calm and reasonable, but he didn't look much happier than his best friends.

Hermione didn't register the tone. "Yes, but for something like this? We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all – Aragog is dead. If it were a question of saving him –"

" – I'd want to help him even less!" Ron wasn't budging, his tone as firm as any of them had ever heard it. "You didn't meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot."

Harry looked torn. Hagrid was a friend, but there were limits to what Harry was willing to do. Trying to pretend to be sorry that Aragog was dead – especially when they weren't sorry – was not worth trying to escape the castle after dark. Hermione's words sealed it. "Harry, you _can't _be thinking of going! It's such a pointless thing to get detention for."

Harry nodded. "I know. We have bigger things to worry about, and Moody is one of the ones on watch tonight. He'd see through the Cloak, even if we did use it."

Parvati squeezed his hand, knowing that it was hard for him to make that choice not to go and support his first friend, but Hagrid was supposed to be an adult, and would just have to manage on his own. Hermione went back to revising. "Destination… determination… deliberation…"

Ron winced. "Oh, stop that," he almost begged her, "I feel sick enough as it is – quick, hide me!"

Hermione, Roisin and Parvati rolled their eyes simultaneously, moving away so that Ron couldn't use them as a shield. "It isn't Lavender!"

Hermione shoved him back from where he had shrunk as close to her as possible, double-checking to make sure that the girls really weren't Lavender. Surprisingly to most, Pansy was with them. "Blimey, they don't look happy, do they? Do you think Parkinson is bothering them about something?"

Roisin could almost see Parvati gritting her teeth. Being a prominent figure in the Gossip Circles meant that you got _all_ of the news, good and bad. Lately, she had been using that knowledge to do her best to make sure that people showed a bit of compassion and sensitivity to those who had received bad news, an endeavor supported by the DA. "Of course they don't! It's the Montgomery sisters, didn't you hear what happened to their little brother."

Someone needed to teach Ron a more diplomatic way of saying things. "I'm losing track of what's happened to everyone's relatives, to be honest."

The only things that stopped Roisin from actually punching him was the fact that he had a point, with the amount of grey and black letters that were practically a weekly occurrence, and that Harry and Hermione had grabbed her arms. Even so, her voice was sharp. "Their mother refused to help the Death Eaters with something, and their five-year-old brother was attacked by a werewolf. Even the best healers in St Mungo's couldn't save him."

Harry had been in detention with Snape when the news of the boy's death came through, and looked shocked. "He died? But surely werewolves don't kill, they just turn you into one of them?"

Ron looked unusually grave, perhaps guilty about his flippant remark earlier. "They sometimes kill. I've heard of it happening when the werewolf gets carried away."

Roisin anticipated Harry's next question. "The age bracket suggests that it was Fenrir Greyback, and rumour backs it up. Pansy's been trying to help, but there isn't really much you can say to something like that." She saw the curious looks. "Pansy was attacked by Greyback during the attack on Hogsmeade. It had consequences. Oh, and the Room of Requirement is off-limits for the next three nights."

That only made them more curious. Roisin really wished that she didn't have to say it, but no-one wanted someone wandering in by accident. "If any of you repeat this, I will curse you into the Permanent Spell Damage ward of St Mungo's, and damn the Aurors. The Hogsmeade attack was the day before the full moon, and while Greyback wasn't transformed, Pansy was still affected. She only transforms at night, and keeps her mind without the Wolfsbane Potion, but it is hard for her, and it could destroy her life if that became public knowledge. The best comfort she can offer the Montgomerys is that it was over quickly, and most people would say that living as a werewolf would be worse."

There was an awkward silence. "But that still doesn't explain why we can't use the Room of Requirement."

OK, Ron _had_ to have been dropped on his head as an infant. Repeatedly. "Dumbledore didn't bother making arrangements, and the Aurors would notice if anyone tried to sneak out to the Shrieking Shack. The Room of Requirement was the only thing we could think of to keep everyone safe during full moons."

Parvati growled something under her breath. She didn't like admitting anything negative about her House, but it was becoming very hard to deny that Dumbledore could do with paying a bit more attention to the students under her care, and should have caught onto the fact that Gryffindor was not the only House in the school.

Luckily, Pansy chose that moment to come over, as did the oldest Montgomery sister, who just barely made the cut-off date for Apparition lessons, despite being in Fifth-Year. "Come on, the Apparition tests start in a few minutes!"

Harry and Parvati stayed behind, not yet old enough to take the test, but Roisin, Hermione and Ron all stood up. Roisin hoped that she was doing a good job at hiding her terror. "Look on the bright side: at least we're getting out of lessons. Good luck in Potions!"

Pansy grabbed her arm. "Draco promised to bring us the homework, now let's _go!_"

* * *

Most of those taking the Apparition test passed, with only a few minor Splinchings. In a very surprise twist, Greg passed with flying colours. He and Vince might be occasionally slow to grasp a concept, but they were also very focused, so once something got into their heads, it stayed there.

Roisin's apparition was a lot louder than she would have liked, sounding like a gunshot, rather than a Christmas cracker, but she did pass, so that was all right.

Hermione passed, of course, and she and Anthony managed to take advantage of the wards being down to sneak back out for a celebratory Butterbeer, along with the other successful A – G students. Roisin, who was being tested with the rest of the O students, just missed them, and Ron didn't quite pass, having a very observant examiner who noticed that he left half an eyebrow behind.

Millicent, who had also passed, had it even better. Passing by a window on the way to Ancient Runes, Passing a window, Roisin spotted Dean and Millicent sitting together and looking surprisingly intimate, Roisin lifted an eyebrow. They had gone to the Yule Ball together, but that had been two years ago, and parted again with no expectations or bad feelings a few days later. Well, whatever the case, Roisin wasn't about to interrupt. If Millie felt like talking about it, Roisin could pry it out while they were getting ready for a 'night out' with Pansy. Pansy would latch onto the idea with both hands, and Millicent might be willing to talk to keep Pansy's mind of the transformations.

"So, is there some kind of re-kindled spark between you and Dean?"

Millicent fumbled the hairbrush she had just picked up, blushing faintly. "Um, I'm not sure what you're talking about."

The hesitant note in her tone said anything, and as Roisin had hoped, Pansy instantly perked up at the thought of gossip and other people's love lives. She was in the annoying part of Young Love, where she wanted everyone else to be as happily paired off as she was. "You're not fooling anyone! Please tell us?"

Millicent sighed, though Roisin got the sense that she had wanted to talk about it, but hadn't felt confident in bringing it up. "Don't look too far into it, Roisin. Dean was just feeling upset because Weasley dumped him out of the blue. Apparently, she thought he was treating her like she was helpless by opening doors and offering to carry her books. Plus, he never tried more than kissing with her."

Mind-Blanking Confusion was not a state that Roisin was very familiar with, and she didn't care for it. "Wait, so you're saying that Ginny didn't want to be with him because Dean acted like a gentleman and respected her boundries? As in: not trying to cop a feel every few minutes?"

Millicent nodded. Roisin stared. "What is wrong with that girl?"

Millicent shrugged. "Well, it's her loss. I was just being comforting and saying that there would be other girls, and maybe the next one would understand and appreciate that he was being respectful."

Roisin smiled. When she and Blaise had been together, she had considered his habit of treating her like a lady, while respecting her abilities as a witch, to be one of his finest qualities. "You wouldn't be among the candidates for 'the Next One', by any chance?"

Millicent coloured slightly and threw her comb at Roisin. Roisin ducked, but didn't stop smiling. Millicent gave up. "Not right now. It would make me seem inconsiderate and needy, for one thing, since they only broke up a few hours ago. Besides, I'm not sure that I want to be in a relationship right now."

Roisin understood, but doubted that the youngest Weasley would see it that way. Given her penchant for nastiness to competition, people who disagreed with her, or just people she didn't like, she doubted that Ginny would see Dean and Millicent's 'friendship-but-potentially-more' as anything more than Dean not being properly cut up over 'losing' her at best, and cheating on her memory at worst. Best to be on the lookout for metaphoric fireworks in the near future.

The spell was broken when Desdemona poked her head in, having gone to check on the boys. "We'll need to work with Greg and Vince when we get the chance. Theo's joining us tonight, so that leaves them as the only ones not yet transformed."

* * *

If Ginny was as upset about the break-up as Dean, she was showing it in a very strange way. She seemed pleased at Dean's removal from the Quidditch Roster, when Katie Bell returned from a stint in St Mungo's after the Hogsmeade attack, and was acting as the 'life and soul' (Roisin wasn't sure who had come up with that, but she was sure that there had been a mocking element to the title) of the team, though everyone agreed that her immitations of Ron anxiously bobbing up and down in front of the goalposts, or of Harry shouting at McLaggen before being knocked out cold were juvenile and unamusing.

Still, if it kept the Gryffindors off their game, the other House Teams weren't too worried.

The fund-raising/donations idea from the younger years had worked out well, and Hogsmeade was well on its way to being repaired. The worst cases of the Diagon Alley/Second Hogsmeade Attacks were out of St Mungo's, one way or another, which meant that the people being temporarily lodged in Hogwarts were slowly moving out. Temporary homes had been found for those left orphaned, and help was being arranged for those families where one or both parents were still recovering or incapacitated.

Those not on Quidditch Teams were pleased about these developments, and the First-, Second- and Third-Years involved were enjoying their time in the spotlight. Roisin was just glad that things were finally returning to a point where she could get back to Homework being the main problem in her life.

Those who were on Quidditch Teams, however, seemed unable to talk about anything except tactics, though the Slytherin Teams kept it down after the Sixth-and Seventh-Year non-Quidditch Players threatened to Hex them. Badly.

They were of the opinion that it didn't matter that much, as the match was between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, anyway. The Quidditch Players insisted that it did matter, because the match would decide the Championship, which was still wide open. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by more than three hundred points, they would win. Less than that, and they would come second behind Ravenclaw. If they lost by less than a hundred, Slytherin would come second, and if they lost by more than a hundred, Gryffindor would fall last, which hadn't happened in two centuries.

Harry was frantic that they would blame him, as captain, though it was far more likely that Gryffindor House would blame McLaggen, who had been responsible for knocking Harry out cold in the previous match against Hufflepuff, allowing the other team to rack up such a score difference. Even so, it was cold comfort, and the Gryffindor Team was practicing relentlessly.

On the bright side, the new streak of Inter-House camaraderie meant that there was no near-warfare in the days leading up to the match, and there were even noises about a party for all of the Houses, no matter who won. In the interest of not having to sit through the match, Roisin and a few other Quidditch non-enthusiasts from Hufflepuff and Slytherin offered to keep the Professors away and organize the party. A few colour-changing charms and a linking rune-spell could take care of the decorations, based on who won.

No longer having a hundred or so extra occupants to keep them busy, the Hogwarts House Elves were suffering from work-withdrawal, and were thrilled to have something big to plan and set up. Promising that the Dark Seamstress (the Hufflepuffs burst out laughing, not having heard the nickname before) would be at the Match and unable to interfere, was icing on the cake. That it was going to be held in the Room of Requirement, rather than in the Gryffindor Common Room, which was still avoided by everyone except Dobby, sealed the deal, and Roisin found herself cheerfully ordering people around, to the background noise of faint cheering.

* * *

Three hours after the Quidditch Final began, students came pouring in. The Gryffindors looked overjoyed, especially Harry, who was waving the Quidditch Cup in one hand, the other around a beaming Parvati's waist. The Ravenclaws looked faintly sulky at their four hundred fifty to one hundred forty loss, but took it in good spirit. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were just celebrating, full stop.

There was only one temporary damper - ending with a few very annoyed people, a shattered glass, and a trip to the hospital wing – when Ginny ran toward Harry with a hard, blazing look and kissed him full on the mouth.

It didn't turn out quite as she expected, however. No one cheered about two of the best Quidditch players getting together, and even Ron, who most people would have expected to be a vocal supporter, was silent, perhaps still a bit sore about his recent break-up with Lavender.

Quite the contrary, as the general consensus was that celebrating the fact that they won the Quidditch cup was fine. Literally jumping on your crush and making a creditable attempt at snogging the daylights out of him, without even checking that he was interested, was not. Doing it in front of half the school (those who weren't either still changing after the match or having trouble finding the Room for the first time), including your very recent ex-boyfriend, was just tacky and desperate.

Roisin wasn't entirely surprised that the entire House feigned a sudden attack of deaf-and-blind syndrome when Parvati hexed her away from her boyfriend. Millicent tried not to look too pleased as she pulled Dean away to 'console' him and take his mind off it.

Pansy, still on her quest to pair up her single friends, was less than pleased when she found out that 'console', at least in this case, translated to '_a walk around the lake holding hands and reassuring him that he could do better_'. Roisin laughed and reminded Pansy that not everyone was in a relationship like hers and Draco's, but that didn't mean the end of the world.

Pansy narrowed her eyes and threatened/promised to make a list of people that Roisin might be romantically compatible with.

* * *

After five years of something more life-threatening than usual happening near the end of the school year, Roisin should have known better than to relax before they were on the Hogwarts Express and pulling into Kings Cross.

In this case, it started with Harry practically snarling as he called an emergency DA meeting. A run-in with a very intoxicated Professor Trelawney on the way to a meeting with Dumbledore had revealed that Professor Snape had spied on Trelawney's job interview, during which she had given the prophecy that had led Dumbledore to hire her, and Voldemort to go after the Potter family.

Dumbledore had known this when he hired the Potions Master, known that Snape was responsible for telling Voldemort the prophecy, and still refused to hear a word against him, insisting that it was 'a terrible mistake', and that he had not known that his master would go after the Potters. A mistake, perhaps, yet Snape had still been willing to cause the Death of an innocent family, as there was no way he could have _not_ known that Voldemort would go after them.

Harry had not handled the news very calmly, but had made several very good points. The people that Snape didn't like tended to end up dead (or came very close), according to the Ravenclaws who had looked up records of people who had become Death Eaters, several of whom had been friends with Snape, and several of the people who he didn't like (Suggested by the records of being hexed or cursed by him) had been early casualties of the first war.

Other points were that Voldemort trusted Snape, who still had provided no solid evidence that he was on Dumbledore's side, and that Dumbledore was probably the _only_ person who trusted Snape at all, never mind completely. Also, Dumbledore's abject refusal to hear anyone else's opinion on the matter was just ridiculous.

The DA had heard the Prophecy at the end of Fifth-Year, shortly after Harry found out about it, and several had been very shaken, as several had been born in June or August. Many of them had siblings, who would not have been spared if Voldemort had attacked their family. Even if Snape had not wanted the Potters killed, for Lily Potter's sake, he had still had no problems with condemning an innocent family to death, and yet Dumbledore still trusted him around the same children that he would have easily allowed to be killed.

Dumbledore had crowned the incident by asking Harry to go on a Horcrux hunt with him, even after Harry had made his feelings on the matter of Soul Jars very clear. Harry had accused him of leaving the School unprotected when Snape seemed unusually happy about something, and walked out to call a meeting.

A few seconds mass mutual concentration had the Room of Requirement show a much larger version of the Marauder's Map, which showed Snape and Dumbledore leaving the grounds together.

Roisin was far from the only one to abandon propriety and let loose with some very colourful swearing.

Harry was one of the many, and Roisin made a mental note to look up some of those words and add them to the list of things that her Second-Years were not allowed to repeat. He sighed. "Right. There's nothing we can do about that for now. Everyone stay on your guard. Keep an eye on anywhere that the Death Eaters might be able to come in, or make sure that your Housemates aren't anywhere by themselves. Katie, stick close to Professor McGonagall, she's probably one of the first people Dumbledore will contact with news. Cho, you do the same with Professor Flitwick, Justin, you have Professor Sprout. Prefects, you have an excuse to hang around the Aurors that you were assigned to patrol with. Do it, and make sure that you have your DA coins to alert the others if you see something."

* * *

Roisin was actually supposed to be on Patrol with Shacklebolt later that night, and found him quickly enough. A pair of broomsticks had flown back about an hour after Snape and Dumbledore had departed, and a hummingbird Patronus from Desdemona (who had been lurking near the Headmaster's office in her Animagus form, just in case they came back) reported that the two men had returned, but that the Headmaster looked to be in a bad way, barely able to stand under his own power.

She was trying to bring up Harry's suspicions without revealing too much (an annoying trait with Aurors was that they tended not to listen to something that they had been told they didn't need to know, which Dumbledore must have said about Snape when he re-formed the Order) when there was screaming, and Roisin felt her Galleon grow hot, just as the Dark Mark suddenly showed itself in the sky.

She snatched the coin from around her neck as another silver hummingbird came flying toward her, Desdemona's voice in a near shriek. "Something happened to get Dumbledore seriously confused! Snape convinced him that it was time for an Apparition lesson and got him to lower the wards, then said 'it's time', but didn't sound like he was talking to Dumbledore! The Anti-Apparition wards are down! Katie, see if Professor McGonagall has any influence on the wards, or we're even more screwed!"

The Galleon alert was from Ginny and Luna, who had been stationed near one of the secret passages from Hogsmeade that Filch did know about, and had probably just spotted Death Eaters.

Moments later, another alert came from David, who had been rounding up stray students and returning them to the Dorms while Ophelia and Dimitri, left in charge when Snape was out of the castle, were placing protections around the Slytherin Common Room after Draco warned them of the possibility that something bad was going to go down.

Roisin was closest to the Second-Years, and still felt responsible for them. She didn't wait for Shacklebolt, but set off at a run.

* * *

Greyback ran through the corridors. It was the evening on a weekend, so all of the lovely little First-Years would be coming back from dinner, or enjoying their last bit of free time before Curfew, according to the daily schedule that Snape had provided. Sure enough, there was a group of them right up ahead!

He growled in anticipation, watching them whirl around at the noise and bunch together. One of them, possibly a Second-Year, tried to throw a large wooden object at him, but he blasted it into splinters.

He wasn't expecting the Firsties to turn the splinters into silver needles and banish them back at him. All right, matchsticks to needles was apparently the first thing they learned in Transfiguration, but children usually screamed and tried to run when they saw him! They never stood their ground and tried to fight!

Damn it, a large part of the plan counted on the half-senile Headmaster refusing to teach children how to protect themselves! A few of the older students had fought back in the Hogsmeade attack, but First-Years? Also, the teachers were too stiff and too attached to the standard lessons to have time for teaching improvisation. Who was teaching them this kind of creative thinking?

Oh, well, that would just make things all the sweeter.

Ah, and look, here came two pretty older girls, running to defend their little friends… Wait, wasn't the blonde one the girl he had bitten in Hogsmeade, months ago? Time to finish the job.

* * *

Greg wasn't the most powerful of Wizards, but he could do a banishing charm, and Vince had only just managed to transform each of his body parts two days ago, though he couldn't do it all at once. The two didn't have a chance of defeating the two large Death Eaters who suddenly appeared, even with Millicent's help, but a wombat had the dense body mass to cause a lot of damage to anything it impacted. Well, according to Theo, once he had stopped laughing.

A wombat nearly twice the size of a normal animal was suddenly shooting toward the Death Eaters, and the crunch indicated several broken bones, though probably not on Vince's part, as he stood back up and started to waddle slowly back toward his friends. Millicent saved time by Summoning him, casting a Lightening charm, and passing him to Greg, who carried his best friend as a silver platypus appeared.

It was the Patronus of that strange little blonde that Roisin insisted on hanging around with, calling for assistance, and the three Slytherins ran to help.

* * *

It had just occurred to Hermione that with the Anti-Apparition ward down, it would be easier for her and Ron to just Apparate to Professor McGonagall's office, where Katie would probably need back up, if the Death Eaters had the sense that God gave a goldfish. Of course, that was doubtful, as anyone with common sense would have known better than to join Voldemort in the first place, but there was no need to take chances.

They arrived with only moments to spare, as Katie was barely fending off a group of four Death Eaters, and Professor McGonagall seemed to be locked in a battle of wills with some invisible force. The Transfiguration Mistress suddenly sagged, with the distinct thunderclap that Hermione had read was an indication of a powerful ward snapping into place.

The Scotswoman pulled herself together with impressive speed, turning one Death Eater into a large panda, and casting a hex at a second, which impacted at the same time as Ron's _Stupify._ With the numbers equalled, Hermione and Katie finished off the final two.

With the three students protecting her, Professor McGonagall raised her wand again. "I cannot control the wards like the Headmaster, but being Deputy allows me some leeway."

She raised her voice and began to chant. Out of the window, Hermione saw the air around Hogwarts start to shimmer, which suggested that Professor McGonagall was raising or strengthening the barriers to protect the school from further attackers.

She turned back to the students. "Return to Gryffindor Tower and lead your Housemates to the Great Hall. If you find any of your peers from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin along the way, instruct them to do the same. I will find the Headmaster."

* * *

Dimitri and Ophelia were slightly annoyed, having _just_ finished setting up the wards when they received the order to report to the Great Hall, but they obeyed.

They arrived to find the rest of the castle population – including Professor Snape, who was tied up and very much unconscious – and the other students, especially the DA, looking very grim. Also tied up and unconscious were several Death Eaters, along with a few adult-sized bodies covered with sheets in one corner. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said it was urgent."

Sienna, the Second-Year who had brought the summons, looked indignant. "Obviously. Did you think that I'd drag you all out of a safe place just for fun?"

Given the antics of certain of the girl's Yearmates, that was exactly what Ophelia had thought, but she wasn't about to say so. "Er, so why are the Death Eaters here, with largely defenseless children?"

Professor McGonagall sighed. Professor Dumbledore was still a bit out of touch, so she was forced to take command. "Because I don't want them running loose around the castle, and we took away their wands already. Also, I doubt that You-Know-Who would send only a few of his minions, especially to attack Hogwarts. Either they are a strike team, or an advance party, and I want answers from them."

Cho Chang raised a nervous hand from a huddle of Ravenclaws. "Um, after the Ministry Battle last year, I looked up Stunning spells that can't be undone by magic. We'll sort of have to wait for them to wake up by normal means."

The Slytherins had seen that glint in the eyes of their Sixth-Year Prefect before, and hurridly backed away as she sighed. "Someone send a House Elf to find smelling salts, please. Or an especially foul-smelling potions ingredient. I'll wake one of them for the meanwhile."

A Hufflepuff Fifth-Year did not know better than to ask. "How were you planning on that, since Cho just said that you can't wake them magically, and I don't think a little shake will do the job."

Dimitri couldn't decide if Roisin's expression could best be termed 'Shark-like' or 'Wolfish'. The Sixth-Year girl took two steps forward, half twisted on one foot, and brought the other heel down sharply between a Death Eater's legs.

There was a sudden scramble as everyone male tried to back away as fast and as far as possible, while several girls tried to get a closer look as the Death Eater was unpleasantly yanked back to consciousness, mouth open in a silent scream. Roisin raised a foot in a clear threat thatshe wouldn't hesitate to do it again. "Start talking."

Casting a frightened look at Roisin, and an even more frightened one at Professor McGonagall's face, he did. "The Dark Lord has judged the time right to take Hogwarts and return it to a proper school of magic, free of Muggle taint. We were sent to make sure that none of the Professors would be fit or fool enough to stand in his way."

Harry's wand was still trained on Professor Snape, along with several other DA members, some of whom seemed to have been getting a bit of quiet revenge while attention was focused elsewhere. "Good thing the Dark Tosser forgot about the students, then."

The Death Eater tried to put on a good show of fearlessness, but then caught sight of the Gryffindor girls who had become notorious for using the Castration charm in the Hogsmeade attack, and who looked like they meant business. Why couldn't girls just go for the throat, like any other wizard? He faltered, then managed to summon a last burst of bravado. "It doesn't matter. The Dark Lord is coming, and he will make you beg for death."

Harry stunned him again as the DA and other students exchanged glances, more worried than they tried to let on. A First-Year Ravenclaw asked the inevitable question. "What do we do now?"

_hp_

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_A/N: So, FF.n is now allowing story covers, or artwork based on the fic. Since I can't draw for peanuts, anyone who wants to try gets a chapter dedicated to them. Also, a shout-out to my one-shot "If You Still Love Me", for being my 1ooth story posted on this site! Feeling proud! _

_As you can see, I don't plan on having a Horcrux hunt, which cuts out the vast majority of Sixth-Year. Battles and Fight Scenes are hard to write, but I'll do my best to have the next chapter up on time next week. As you can also see, I prefer Snape as an unredeemed Death Eater, and am firmly convinced that changing sides because he loved Lily not only drastically cheapened a very complex character, but was seriously creepy, rather than sweet and romantic. _

_You can disagree if you like, but that is my take on things._

_I beta-read as best I can, but that doesn't mean that I catch everything, or that formatting hiccups don't happen when I upload the chapter. That is why I ask for Constructive Criticism; so people can point out any mistakes that I've made._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	93. On the Verge of War

_Disclaimer: Again? Really? Oh, well. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Is there a minimum number of chapters before I can stop stating the obvious?_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

_A/N: Thanks to __**'Madam Hipster Bones'**__, for the massively awesome review she left for the last chapter! I would have replied personally, but the review wasn't signed in, which stopped me from doing so._

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-TWO**

The Hufflepuff's words echoed through the suddenly quiet Great Hall.

One Slytherin, who had not possessed the willpower to stand up against her Death Eater family, but wasn't stupid enough to try anything when most of the House was against her parents' master, shrugged hopelessly. "Surrender? I mean, most of us are Pureblood, with loyal families, so the Dark Lord will probably spare us."

A Gryffindor whose name Roisin didn't know glared at the Slytherin table. "And what about the students who aren't Pureblood, which, as I recall, is about two-thirds of the school? You'd hand us over to be killed?"

Whatever the Slytherin had been about to say in response was cut off by Roisin's _Stupefy._ It was quiet, but echoed like a shout in the Great Hall. Whatever the political environment, no-one had ever seen one Slytherin attack another outside of practical Defence lessons.

Roisin lowered her wand. "Now stay quiet, you prejudiced moron. No-one is surrendering or handing people over to die."

Another Pro-Death Eater Slytherin spoke up, careful to stay out of direct firing range. "You'd throw your lot in with a bunch of sanctimonious fools who barely even treat our House like real people? You want to fight for some abstract Greater Good, instead of your own survival? Maybe you deserve to have the Dark Lord kill you!"

Roisin fought back the urge to sneer. She had to choose her words carefully. She needed to show that regardless of certain members, Slytherin was not automatically evil, and there was no better time to prove that by fighting alongside their fellow students. "I am not fighting for the 'Light Side' or some obscure ideal! I'm fighting for me, and to prove that just because some sadistic madman and a portion of his mindless minions came from Slytherin, that doesn't mean that all of us deserve to be tarred with the same lunatic brush! I was placed in Slytherin because I am ambitious, because I want to be all that I can, and that doesn't include cowering at someone else's feet! I'm fighting for the freedom and opportunity to carry out my plans for the future!"

Roisin looked around, eyes travelling from the apprehensive Slytherins to the other three Houses, who had gone from hostile to defensive-but-gob smacked. Her attention returned to her own house. "I don't control any of you, but anyone who walks out to join Snake-Face will wind up on the wrong end of my wand, and I won't be worrying about getting detention if my piercing hex manages to take out your spine along the way."

Roisin was well-known for painful curses that promised humiliating, inconvenient, long-lasting or all-of-the-above consequences for her unfortunate victim. It didn't happen very often, but that only made it more noticeable that Roisin never made a threat that she was unable to carry out. It didn't necessarily mean that she _would_ do it, but the warning was there. Her friends knew that the threats were more akin to verbal rough-housing between friends, but the rest, which encompassed most of the Hogwarts Population, were unaware of this, and remained silent, one or two exchanging glances as Roisin continued. "If any of you feel like actually using the brains you were given, and staying to put up a fight for our lives, then Stand. By. Me."

For a moment, no one moved. Then Desdemona stepped forward. "Besties don't ditch."

There was no time to wonder where the pureblood had managed to pick up the Muggle saying - or Muggle slang at all – as Millicent joined her. "I'm not interested in what a Dark Lord would consider a reward."

Mary was next. "Family comes first, always."

Blaise sighed theatrically. "I'm going to regret not just leaving, aren't I?"

Roisin ignored him as Theo followed. "Not as much as you'd regret not staying to help, I imagine."

The Slytherin Second-Years moved as a Unit. Lucinda, still the smallest, clutched her hand. "We've followed you since we were sorted, and you've not led us wrong yet. No reason for us to stop now."

Slowly, the majority of Slytherin walked over. Some of them looked a bit lost, but most turned to Roisin.

A few, mainly those with Inner Circle Death Eater parents, remained stubbornly in place, and were removed to a corner, under guard. Roisin gave a deep sigh, more than ready to hand it all over to Harry, but was stopped when Richard grinned up at her. "What do you need us to do, Prefect-Mummy?"

Roisin sighed in exasperation, a front to hide the fact that she was currently trying not to scream in panic over having been elected temporary leader. Absently, she noticed Hermione, Ron, Neville and Parvati instructing the Gryffindors. Not far from them, Anthony, Cho, Padma, Terry, and Luna were doing the same with the Ravenclaws, while Hannah, Justin, Susan and Ernie start issuing orders the Hufflepuffs. Roisin forced herself to focus. "Stop calling me that, for starters. Now, who here has passed rune-carving?"

Several people raised their hands. Roisin nodded. "Right. Follow Millicent back to the Dorms, grab your rune kits, and meet back here." She started clearing a space at the table, looking at the Second-Years. "You know where the Room of Requirement is. We need blank rune stones about the size of your fist. While you're doing that, everyone start brainstorming about what rune clusters will make the biggest explosion."

David perked up suddenly, "There are runes to make things explode?"

Sienna rolled her eyes and dragged him off.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Who thought it was a good idea to leave you in charge of impressionable First-Years, again? I'm so glad I won't be here when they actually start making their own Rune Spells."

While it was one of the few times Draco might have had a point, Roisin didn't grace that with an answer as she spotted the next person she needed. "Hey, Luna, what do the Creatures in the _Quibbler_ look like, and can you draw me a picture?"

Death Eaters knew about Magical Creatures, but Roisin doubted that any of them had the first idea about Heliopaths or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. The Editor-in-Chief might be completely off his rocker – not that she would ever say so out loud – but the _Quibbler _certainly made for interesting 'fantasy-substitute' reading.

Merkstave _Ansuz_, for delusion or false vision, should cause a fair bit of disarray when images of those creatures started appearing. Couple it with another rune, Merkstave _Wunjo_, for delirium, impractical enthusiasm and raving frenzy. Each aligned against Gebo and Merkstave Thurisaz, for a contract with Evil, would hopefully confine the effects to the Death Eaters. She would warn everyone to stay out of the way, just in case.

Onto the next point. "Right. Who has mastered silent casting? And I mean mastered, not can-only-do-it-half-the-time!"

A few people from various Houses, all in Sixth- or Seventh-Year, raised their hands. Ophelia stepped forward, her face resolute. "What do you need us to do?"

Roisin took a deep breath. "I need you to sow confusion. Cast silently, but shout a different spell. Make up nonsense words and use those, I don't care if it's bloody Pig-Latin. Vary the spells you cast. Team up and double-cast to break through a shield. Get in, cast, and move somewhere else. I want Voldemort's forces to not know what they're up against. I want them to shield against a Stunner and get blasted by a Bludgeoning Curse. I want them to waste energy trying to block a Concussion Hex that is really a Jelly-Legs Jinx. I want you to make them fear that they are facing spells that they know nothing about, because the incantation is made up on the spot."

To her mild surprise, the Slytherins who weren't sitting Stunned in a corner promptly obeyed, and she walked over to report to Harry, who was currently facing off against a slightly-more-aware-than-previously Dumbledore, neither of them having much faith in the other's plan for the upcoming Battle of Hogwarts.

While they had the sense to keep their voices low, Roisin could hear them as she drew closer. Harry did not sound pleased. "If you try to tell me that the Power The Dark Lord Knows Not is love, and I should count on that saving the day, I swear to the Gods…"

Hermione, who had approached with Anthony and Susan to report, cut in before Harry could say anything too dire, no matter how well-deserved. "Actually, I think that it might be love, just not the kind that the Headmaster," she glowered at Dumbledore, "thinks it is."

Hermione's theories were always worth listening to, SPEW being the obvious exception, and she always reasoned things out before speaking. Harry nodded. "Go on, Hermione."

The brains of Gryffindor blushed and faltered when she noticed that the entire Hall was now focused on her. Anthony squeezed her hand in support. "Well, Voldemort's Death Eaters follow him out of fear or out of desire for his table scraps, as much as belief in his cause, and most of them were pretty quick to abandon him when he fell the first time. Ron and I follow Harry because we think of him as a brother. The DA follow him out of friendship and because we believe in him as a leader."

Padma followed the train of thought as Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry inspires people, and is loyal to his friends, and that's a kind of love in its own right. We will follow him to Hell, because we know he won't come back unless he brings us with him, while Voldemort would leave his entire force behind to save himself."

Draco utterly spoiled the mood. "Now that we've established that, can we get back to planning how to survive the night?"

* * *

Now that the Professors had snapped out of their shock at the Students taking over matters, they were trying to re-assert their Authority, which was causing even more problems. Professor McGonagall almost certainly _meant _well, and was mostly just repeating Dumbledore's wishes, but it really wasn't helping. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow any of the underage students to fight."

Roisin spluttered. That left out most of the school, leaving the defenders with the Seventh-Years, a few Sixth-Years (significantly _not_ including the so-called 'Chosen One') and the Professors. Unless they got some serious back-up – doubtful with the blocked Floo Network and the Ministry of Magic's tendency to ignore House Elves – they were doomed. "Forgive me, Professor, but that's insane. How do you propose to get all of the under-age students out, in case Voldemort and his Death Eaters manage to force their way in? Better yet, how do you propose to evacuate, and stop them from sneaking back the instant your back is turned? Most of the Death Eaters went to school here, too, so at least some of them will know about the secret passages."

Professor McGonagall glared at her, clearly stressed. "I realize that, Miss O'Conner, but the fact remains that we are responsible for those not yet of age, and would be held accountable if they were hurt!"

Fair point, but still largely irrelevant. "So let any protestors get pissy at Dumbledore, who can throw his weight around and worm out of it. Explain the risks to them, and let the students make their own choice about whether or not to fight."

Behind her, Neville and Harry had stayed out of it while speaking quietly and intently. Now they both cleared their throats. "She has a point, Professor. The DA will fight, and while most of them are Underage, you don't have a hope in Hell at keeping them locked in their Common Rooms."

Draco, who was sticking close Roisin out of sheer self-preservation, laughed. "Actually, go ahead and do that; we'd be out in ten minutes and you wouldn't have the time to repeatedly escort us back until we ran out of ways to escape."

He stopped when he caught Pansy gesturing him to silence, and Professor McGonagall looked up, perhaps seeking another way to get the younger students out. "There are secret passages in and out of the Slytherin Common Room?"

Roisin shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking that about the fact that the dungeons are cut into the cliff, several of the Dorms have windows, and most of the students have brooms or can cast a levitation spell. Same with the other Houses and it only takes one to fly to the next window, climb back in, and let everyone else out."

The Patil Twins blinked. "Our Houses are towers, so it might be a bit more difficult, but it's obvious now that you think about it. All we'd really need to do is conjure some dead meat to dangle outside the windows and wait for a few Thestrals to show up."

Roisin shrugged, thinking of how long ago their flight to the Ministry seemed, though it was only last year. "That would work. Living in the Dungeons kind of limits your escape routes, so we've been kicking around theories since the Hogsmeade attack." She looked around, suddenly noticing a certain absence. "Where's Hermione?"

Harry looked over. "I think she went to tell the House Elves what was going on and to evacuate the castle if they could."

And if Hermione was operating with her usual amount of tact that statement would boil down to: 'Hermione had gone to tell the House Elves that they weren't allowed to stay and defend their home, because they weren't paid to do so'. Oh, dear. "Well, there go your chances of getting them to actually listen to that idea. You do realize that they'll probably stay just to spite her?"

As if she had spoken prophecy, about a dozen decidedly angry House Elves suddenly appeared, along with a Silenced and Immobilized Hermione, who was looking outraged. One that Roisin recognized as the Head Kitchen Elf sounded particularly affronted as he faced Professor McGonagall. "Dark Seamstress is telling Hogwarts House Elves to abandon castle and run away. Hogwarts Elves is not listening to bad Dark Seamstress, and will be helping to get rid of nasty Invaders."

Roisin tried desperately not to laugh, ignoring those who had lost the battle and were keeled over, nearly howling with merriment. "My mother claimed that cast-iron skillets would take down anything smaller than a Rhino, especially if you aimed in the right place."

The House Elves popped away, looking much happier. Harry and Ron looked confused. "Who's the Dark Seamstress?"

Roisin rolled her eyes; was Hermione the only one of them who actually used their brain? "Take a wild guess. Who can the House Elves collectively not stand?"

Well, Parvati certainly had her shining moments, as well, especially when she and Padma worked together. "Wait, the Ministry ignores House Elves, but the DA knows better, especially after Dobby warned us last year. Can House Elves get through the wards to warn the Graduated DA members? Or bring them back with them? We need all the back-up we can get."

Dobby had certainly managed to get through the wards during Second Year, if Harry's stories were true, and they could certainly get from House to House, if their Masters wanted to send a message faster than Owl Post. There was one way to find out. "Winky."

The little House Elf appeared with a small pop. Wanting her littlest friend out of the fight without offending her, Roisin knelt down. "Do you remember everyone who was in the DA? I need you to go find them and tell them that Voldemort is about to attack. Then find the families of all the students with magical relatives, and tell them the same thing. Pass it on to Madam Rosmerta and the barman in the Hog's Head, too."

Winky nodded seriously, and hugged her. "Miss Roisin is being very careful. If Miss Roisin, ma'am is hurt, Winky will be cooking boiled liver for a week!"

Roisin really did love what the House Elves considered to be a threat or a punishment to those they served. It was nice of Winky to show that she cared. "I will. Is it possible for House Elves to bring wizards through wards with them? We could use the help fast."

Winky nodded, and snapped her own fingers, calling Dobby, who waited for confirmation of the same instructions from Harry. "Winky will ask other elves for help. If their owners will allow, they can take Wizards through the wards."

The two elves disappeared, and the sound of someone drawing a deep breath behind her made Roisin lift a hand without looking back. "Don't start, Hermione. Right now, we have bigger problems, and you can yell at me later."

* * *

Not long after, the doors leading from the Great Hall to the rest of the castle banged open, causing everyone to whirl around, wands drawn, to where several extra people had entered. It looked like Winky had recruited several other House Elves to relay the news to former students and families, letting them know what happened. They had congregated in Hogsmeade, where Lee Jordan and the Weasley Twins knew every secret passage in or out of Hogwarts, or had been brought straight in by the Elves. The entire Gryffindor and Hufflepuff graduating classes of last year were gathered, along with a few Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Cedric walked over, grinning broadly. "What do you need us to do?"

Seeing Sirius approach with several of the Order and several adults bearing a strong resemblance to certain Hogwarts Students, Roisin pointed him to where Harry and Professor McGonagall were talking. "Go ask them. I'm busy with rune clusters and ordering my House around."

The Weasley Twins laughed "What good will runes do against Death Eaters, except for wards."

Roisin picked up an illusion rune she had been working on, replacing Gebo and Merkstave Thurisaz with the Egyptian Hieroglyph for twins, and threw it at them. Fred and George yelped and started running away from a Heliopath. Roisin summoned the rune stone back to her and tapped it with her wand, breaking the stone into pieces and shattering the spell. "That, for one. Now go find something useful to do."

Joking aside, the Weasley Twins had not been idle, and were demonstrating some of their more combat-oriented inventions when Fionna appeared, along with several of the O'Conner Clan, who were even less inclined to sit this war out after the death of Sorcha and Sean last year. One of their first actions was to use some kind of silly-string to tie up Snape and the Pro-Voldemort Slytherins, and have Professor McGonagall create a Portkey to drop them somewhere outside the wards.

That taken care of, they then started organizing teams to litter the secret passages with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Portable Swamps ('_now with optional animals! Simulated Crocodiles and Piranhas add an extra bite to your day!'_), triggered by people stepping on them, and to rig the Hogwarts-side entrances with a few of their more creative traps.

If Death Eaters did get in, it wouldn't be through the passages.

* * *

Resigned to the fact that the Students would be fighting, unless she wanted to use up half the available fighters in escorting them to their Commons and keeping them there, a plan that was dubious at best, Professor McGonagall had decided to let Dumbledore and assorted parents handle it. More than a few family disputes were currently underway (particularly with Molly Weasley, who didn't want any of her children fighting, despite all but Ginny being of age), but lack of any real options was slowly starting to carry the day.

Deciding that waiting for Dumbledore to fully recover (the Transfiguration Professor had put some of his more idiotic suggestions down to still being under the effects of whatever had him so out of it earlier) she had taken charge, sending Neville and Seamus to take down the bridge that was one of the more straightforward ways into Hogwarts from outside, a task that the Irish boy seemed very enthusiastic about. His mother, who knew her son's pyrokinetic tendencies all too well, had looked a bit more concerned, but let it go in favour of speaking with Fionna. Irishwomen were never the placid, wait-at-home-while-others-fight kind of girl.

Now, Professor McGonagall walked out into the courtyard, turning to face the castle and raised her wand. "_Piertotum Locomotor_! Defenders of Hogwarts, heed my call!"

With huge, echoing thumps and crashes, the statues and suits of armor so common around Hogwarts began to appear, animated and marching like the knights they once were, obedient to the Scotswoman's commands. "Hogwarts is threatened! Man the Boundaries! Protect us! Do your duty to our school!"

Well, that certainly made Roisin feel a lot better about their chances with the Giants and Trolls. The Order and several other adults also raised their wands to the sky, strengthening the wards. Bill and Fleur gripped each other's free hands, adding spells that the others did not recognize, most likely based on the wards around Beauxbatons and some of the tombs that Bill had encountered while working for Gringotts.

Looking around her, Roisin decided that if she ever took it into her head to take over the world, she planned on doing it as far from Professor McGonagall and the other House Heads as possible. Maybe Australia.

Then they saw the line of Death Eaters, Dementors, Giants and Trolls gathering just beyond the wards, and Reality set back in.

The Battle of Hogwarts was about to begin, and for better or worse, it was the Battle that would decide the fate of the Wizarding World.

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_A/N: Yes, the bit about the Cast-Iron Skillet was a shameless plug to __'The Paths Diverge'__, which some of you probably caught._

_I originally had planned for the entire battle to be one chapter, but ultimately split it into two. I will try to get the next chapter up on time, but since it's approaching the last week of the Semester (and associated exams etc.) it may be a little late._

_As I said earlier, much thanks and praise to __**Madam Hipster Bones**__. That kind of review is every author's dream, both the complimentary and the critical. I hadn't realized that some of the things you pointed out came off that way, and I will try to fix them._

_Thanks,_

_Nat._


	94. The Last Battle

_Disclaimer: OK, you know what; just check the last ninety-plus chapters. The situation hasn't changed._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-THREE**

Professor McGonagall had bowed to the fact that students would be fighting, but she flatly refused to allow any of the First-Years to stay, ordering them to the Room of Requirement with their Prefects and anyone else who didn't feel able to fight. If it hadn't been so obvious that the Slytherin Second-Years would sneak right back out, she would have extended the ban to Third Year, but there was only so much she could do.

One of those things was keep the younger children as far away from the actual fighting as possible. They were restricted to running messages between defence points, always in groups of at least two, so that they had back-up. Anyone who tried to deviate from that was going to be escorted to the Room of Requirement by a House-Elf, who would be responsible for making sure that they stayed there.

As much as they would never say so unless they were forced to back up the Professors, the older students whole-heartedly agreed with this plan. Roisin had just finished flatly refusing to intercede to allow her Second-Years to play a bigger role, and extoling the virtues of communication between forces to persuade them to do as they were told when a cold chill and feeling of unhappiness that heralded a Dementor crept through the defenders.

This time, the Patil twins took charge. "Ah, everyone who can cast a Patronus, this way, please! _Expecto Patronum_!"

Their Patronus forms were very interesting, if you could take your mind away from the battle long enough to appreciate it. Padma's Patronus looked almost exactly like her twin, only with an extra set of arms, a weapon in each of the four hands, and dressed in a sari. Parvati's looked a lot like an entire field of lotus flowers caught up in a whirlwind, but acting like a swarm of knives as they led the charge to take down the Dementors, accompanied by wolf, otter, stag, platypus, terrier, swan, and a multitude of other things.

Professor McGonagall was something of a surprise. Being an Animagus, most would have expected her Patronus to be a tabby cat. Instead, it was a lot like Parvati's; a swarm of sharp-thorned thistles that ripped through a Dementor as though it were smoke.

The sudden retreat of the Dementors, so desperate to get away from the abundance of joy made manifest that they swarmed through their own allies, caused more than a little disarray among Voldemort and his Death Eaters. While they might not have much regret for the atrocities they had certainly taken part in, Voldemort's tendency to torture even his most devoted followers when they failed him wasn't something you forgot in a hurry.

The confusion was helped by a heavy helping of the rune stones, based on one of the spells Roisin had created for her Fourth-Year Ancient Runes exam, carried by hastily conjured birds, only strong enough to get close to the Death Eaters before they vanished, their burden falling down to hit Voldemort's forces. Proper _Thurisaz_, for directive force in defence and cleansing fire, and Sowilo, for justice and retribution. Aligned against Gebo and Merkstave Thurisaz, for a contract with Evil. There was no time to perfect through testing, but the clusters should act as mini-grenades to Voldemort's forces and harmless to anyone else. Hopefully.

Even those, along with various other methods designed to obstruct progress and sow confusion while Voldemort slowly broke through the wards couldn't hold up forever, and the Death Eaters finally got close enough to start throwing spells.

By numbers alone, not to mention their willingness to use Unforgivable Curses, it was enough to cause devastation.

Evasion tactics, also known as '_being where the AKs are not'_ worked all right, but were worth nothing if the defenders were not willing to fight back.

Fortunately, most of them were.

* * *

Several of the DA members had stormed the Ministry last year, and many of the Magical families had lost loved ones during one or both of Voldemort's rises. The barman from the Hog's Head turned out to be Aberforth Dumbledore; the Headmaster's estranged brother, and even fiercer in a fight. At least, he was a lot less restrained in the spells he was willing to use.

While several of the Hogwarts Defenders thought it dishonourable to not face their opponents head-on, Roisin and a few others had no qualms about acting as a sniper and cursing Death Eaters in the back. Carefully hidden under a Disillusionment Charm, they scattered, moving from cover to cover, mostly cursing to distract or down, but also summoning or levitating object to intercept the more lethal spells that the Death Eaters were using.

The Suits of Armor and the Statues were going to be in need of a truly excellent armorer or stone-carver when everything was done, but they had done a good job of reducing the numbers of the Trolls and Giants. The Patil Twins had done a truly spectacular job of taking down two more, working together. Padma distracted them with a constant barrage of obscure spells, wearing down their natural resistance, while Parvati did something to finish them off.

One Giant found his eyelids sewn together, resulting in blundering around in pain and confusion, swinging its club blindly, but only managing to hit several of the other Giants, who promptly turned on him. A troll had been defeated when _Wingardium Leviosa_ brained it with its own club, and a concerted spell from the twins turned it into a red-and-bronze panda.

The two girls exchanged faintly sheepish looks at the mix of House Colours, and then launched themselves back into the fight.

* * *

The Scots had been the ones to point out that a woman in battle was a fearsome thing, (And watching Professor McGonagall fight proved the point quite vividly) but that didn't mean that they were the only ones to acknowledge and/or prove the fact.

Nearly all of those who fought had lost someone to the Dark Lord or his forces, and that, along with the unwillingness to mourn any more loved ones, spurred them with a ferocity that the Death Eaters' greed and lust for power would never manage. A stray curse struck the pile of rubble where Roisin's grandmother and Seamus's mother had taken cover, and she heard one of them cry out.

A wild, primal scream tore, unbidden, from her throat as blood surged through her veins and she ran at the group of Death Eaters advancing toward that position. They were only metres away, and by the time they could react, she was among them. So close together, they couldn't fire spells without hitting each other, and they carried nothing for close-range combat.

Roisin had her dirk, very good reflexes, and was protecting those she cared about. She also had Seamus Finnigan close on her heels, whose talent for blowing things up extended a lot further than Charms class and the occasional bridge.

The Death Eaters were a bit more resilient than many of their fellows, but they didn't care much for watching each other's back, and trying to hit Seamus or Roisin kept them too busy to notice a few Fourth-Years who were acting as Retrievers, carrying the injured back inside. With only one or two of the original group of Death Eaters standing, Roisin waved Seamus away to cover them on the way to the Great Hall… and instantly regretted her pride and over-confidence.

The skirmish had lasted long enough for several other Death Eaters to notice that some of their friends were in difficulty, and Roisin no longer had distance to use in her defence. The curse that came her way was a sickly green, which almost always meant something nasty, even if she didn't hear the incantation. There was no way for her to dodge, not enough time to turn around and throw up a Shield or counter it. Even so, her mind whirled with plans as her death sped closer… only to miss by inches as a dark form hit her in a waist-high tackle.

The breath whooshed out of her as she landed, rocks falling from where the curse had impacted a wall instead of her head, and she tensed in shock when she noticed the identity of her rescuer. "Watch yourself, Rose!"

Roisin spluttered as Blaise sent a cutting curse at her attacker and rolled to his feet, helping her up. Even so, she couldn't help the savage grin that curled her lips, her mind flashing to happier times. "How do you feel at raining down some elegantly refined hell?"

Blaise somehow turned ducking a curse into a very proper bow. "I would be delighted, Rose. Ladies first?"

Roisin knew that a pitched battle was hardly the place for theatrics, but she turned throwing a rune-cluster at a Death Eater into accepting his hand, and they launched themselves back into battle.

* * *

One day, Roisin was going to stop being surprised at the sheer audacity that shone in everything that Fred and George Weasley did.

Years of being on the wrong end of their mother's strident tones as she lectured them over their antics had apparently led the Weasley Twins to what Roisin considered a very below-the-belt charm that mimicked the voice of someone, even if that person was not actually present.

They had teamed up with Percy and Lavender, who knew the dynamics and relationships of just about every family in England. One of the things about families is that there is always a patriarch or matriarch, even if they aren't the official head of the family, who everyone listens to.

One such example was the voice of Professor Marchbanks, one of the OWL examiners from last year and more importantly a Great-Great-Grandmother. Her imperious voice rang across the courtyard, proclaiming that she knew you were out there and you weren't too old to be taken over her knee if she saw you throw one more curse.

Roisin wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry or just stare when at least one Death Eater actually tried to hide their wand behind their back. There was a spectacular explosion as another stopped mid-spell, causing it to backfire horribly.

* * *

Either the Hogwarts Defenders were doing a much better job that Roisin had expected, or Voldemort was getting worried at how much 'Pure' blood was being spilled, because the Dark Lord called a cease-fire after only about two hours (according to the courtyard clock, which had somehow remained intact.

Of course, being Voldemort, it was less of a cease-fire and more of a 'pureblood-defenders-join-me-or-die-like-the-rest', but it was the thought that counted.

In a way, it was a good thing, since Voldemort had been very good at staying away from any direct fighting, up until that point, when his flair for dramatics brought him to the front.

Bellatrix stared at her nephew, looking almost sane as she held out a hand. "Come, Draco. Join our Lord."

Draco took a deep breath, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking from head to toe as he took a stand. "No."

In that moment, Roisin couldn't have been more proud of her friend. Bellatrix did not share that sentiment. "You dare to defy him? You scorn our Master and side with the blood-traitors? Then you will die with them! _Avad – _AH!"

She fell, and behind her, Narcissa Malfoy trained her wand on Voldemort's Right Hand Witch. "Over _your_ dead body."

Bellatrix tried to lever herself upright, and was promptly hexed flat again. That didn't stop her from ranting. "You would betray us, too? You think you have a chance against the true daughter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black? I'll – "

Narcissa cursed her a third time. "I'm a Black, too, _sister_. I'm also entirely sane, unlike you, and I'm not letting you near my son."

Lucius dragged his wife to the ground, out of the way of a cutting curse, receiving a very nasty gash on the arm in the process, before their son cast a strong shield and Summoned them both behind the Hogwarts Lines.

Bellatrix struggled to her feet with help from another Death Eater and aimed her wand at Draco, who, by sheer chance was standing next to Ginny and Neville. None of the three students had yet noticed, thanks to having more important things to focus on, but their respective mothers and Grandmother had, and reacted simultaneously. Roisin and Sorcha were apparently not the only people to make creative use of Household Charms, as a drastically overpowered Preserving Charm, used to stop perishable food from going off, practically turned Bellatrix into a stone fossil, and then into rubble after a well-placed Blasting Hex from Narcissa. A Concussion Curse from Augusta Longbottom, impacting less than a second after Mrs Malfoy's spell, scattered the pieces.

Given the amount of broken masonry and paving stones in the courtyard, Roisin had the feeling that even finding Bellatrix would be an exercise in futility.

* * *

The loss of his most faithful follower was apparently too much for Voldemort, as he attacked with a scream of rage. Harry Summoned a piece of what had once been a low wall in front of the curse, and the ceasefire was over.

Everyone, even Harry, had always known that it would eventually come down to a fight between him and Voldemort, but as Roisin and the DA had said, that didn't mean he had to fight alone. The Death Eaters found themselves under siege from students and civilians who were fighting even harder than before, stopping them from getting near the final Duel.

One Death Eater managed to get a split second shot, aiming to curse Harry in the back, but Katie Bell, who was the closest, dove in front of him, the Charm used by Appleby Arrow Quidditch fans taking her straight in the chest. She didn't rise.

Remus was hit by a dagger specially designed to cause an agonizing death by silver poisoning, but was barely saved by the Patil twins, who cast a Summoning Charm to get the dagger out, followed by Leeching and Blood-Clotting charms, designed to draw out poisoned blood and stop a person from bleeding out. He was out for the rest of the fight, but he would live.

Tonks and Sirius, protecting him, caught twin Cruciatus curses, but somehow fought their way through the pain to cast a non-verbal Stupefy at their attackers, who were promptly hit with something more permanent from Cho and Cedric.

Ernie Macmillan screamed in pain as he took a flame-whip to the back when he grabbed two Second-Years, sheltering them with his own body, but Susan got to him in time, taking down the responsible party, her eyes cold.

It was hard to keep an eye on Voldemort and Harry while engrossed in their own fights, but the DA did manage a few glimpses, and the occasional curse to keep the Dark Lord off-balance. Harry was totally focussed on the fight, trusting the Hogwarts Defenders to watch his back, while Voldemort continuously glanced around when he had the chance, with the justifiable paranoia of one who knows that the majority of his forces are only watching his back to see if there is an opportunity to sneak in a curse of their own.

Very slowly, this was taking a toll, and Harry was getting more and more hits in. Voldemort was becoming slower to deflect curses, which Harry was firing so rapidly that it was almost impossible for the Dark Lord to cast any of his own. Unlike his battles with the other Defenders, Voldemort was wary of casting the Killing Curse on Harry, perhaps remembering what had happened the last few times he had tried.

Sensing this, Harry switched to _Sectumsempra, _a curse found in the Half-Blood Prince's potion book, which acted like a Cutting Curse, but was a lot stronger and harder to heal. As a result of slowing reflexes, Voldemort was now covered in shallow cuts, which slowed him down even more.

Off to the side, Parvati and Padma cast a reflective shield to block a curse aimed at Harry's back. Unfortunately, they moved just as another Death Eater cast a tripping jinx at Padma, who knocked into Parvati, who staggered and twisted her ankle on a rock, somehow managing to kick it at Voldemort. It missed, landing just behind him, but he shield held, barely, and the curse shot off at an angle, hitting a large bough of the courtyard tree that had somehow remained standing.

The bough fell exactly between the two combatants, who both managed to leap back out of the way. Harry was caught by Ron, who had battled his way over after Katie fell. Perhaps it was the Luck that tended to follow Harry around in life-threatening situations or the power of Love from the Indian Witch, but Voldemort managed to jump back directly onto the rock that Parvati had kicked toward him.

He fell, just as Parvati had, but there was no-one to help him up.

Harry cast a final _Sectumsempra_, which went through Voldemort's neck, and followed with an _Inflammare _at the Dark Lord's body, just for good measure.

A burst of raw Dark Magic nearly flattened everyone within a ten-foot radius, and all of the Marked Death Eaters fell unconscious as their Master's body was reduced to ash, but they staggered upright again, looking at the bald, snake-like head that was all that remained of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

* * *

It was like something out of a bodice-ripper romance novel, and if Roisin hadn't been drunk on victorious relief, she probably would have protested that people were being stupid. Ignoring her ankle, Parvati hobbled over to Harry, who swung her around in joy, both laughing as he tripped over the bough and they both fell backward into a tangle of branches.

Hermione almost tackled Anthony, gluing her lips to his, both oblivious to the fascinated Second- and Third-Years, who probably hadn't seen that level of passionate before.

The Weasleys engulfed each other in an enormous group embrace, laughing and sobbing in relief that they had all survived.

Draco and Narcissa dropped down beside Lucius, frantically checking that he was only unconscious, before looking for a healer.

Augusta and Neville, accompanied by the Slytherin Second-Years, summoned a few elves to fetch all of the Draught of Living Death potion they could find, and began administering it to the unconscious Death Eaters.

Madam Pomfrey and her 'apprentice' healer assistants began trying to sort out the injured and unconscious from the dead, and then those into who needed immediate attention and who could wait until the urgent cases were stabilized. Millicent drafted help in the form of a few Aurors who had been contacted and summoned as having relatives among the student population.

As people started to cheer, Roisin looked around her with a wide grin. For once, Blaise was not so restrained, catching her around the waist and pulling her close for a toe-curling kiss.

Roisin decided to think about their non-relationship status later, and flung her arms around him in response.

The War was over! They had won!

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_A/N: OK, some people are going to be annoyed that I didn't have the Molly/Bellatrix showdown, but having Narcissa break so obviously with her sister made more of an impact that the Malfoys really were against Voldemort, rather than crying Imperio again._

_The trick used by Lavender, Percy and the Weasley Twins was first thought up by Reg Shoe, in Terry Pratchett's '__Night Watch'__. Never underestimate the sheer vindictiveness of old ladies, especially the Agony Aunts._

_I always find action scenes really hard to write, so I would appreciate some criticism on how I did this time. _

_On a mostly unrelated note: I've branched into Andrew Lloyd Webber territory, with two LND and one PotO fics. Since my love for underdog pairings is still running strong, I'd love opinions on how I did._

_Also, has anyone seen the Advance Screening of '__**Brave'**__? Fifty. Kinds. Of. Awesome. Of course, then my friend saw me in a green dress during weekend archery practice, and I probably won't be hearing the end of that anytime soon, especially after she found out that my family was Scottish nine generations ago, before they moved to England and then Australia._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	95. The Dawn of a New Era

_Disclaimer: Oh, all right. I don't own Harry Potter. The lawyers can stop eyeballing me now._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY FOUR**

The Great Hall was silent.

There had been no time for Roisin to keep an eye on the various injured during the battle, and the full effects were now showing.

While most of the damage had been to the castle, the Defenders had not escaped unscathed. While they had been far more prepared than the victims of the Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley attacks, the Battle of Hogwarts (as it was coming to be known) had been a lot more serious, as Voldemort and the Death eaters were playing for keeps, rather than mere scare tactics. There had been less fatalities, and it had been far easier to get medical attention to the injured, but that didn't mean that all was well.

Katie Bell was dead, as was Amanda, the Slytherin Head Girl from last year, who had come back to help. Romilda Vane and three Fifth-Year Ravenclaws had been killed when half of a tower had fallen on them, not having the time to escape after Banishing their comrades to safety.

The Slytherins were paying a silent tribute to Professor Slughorn, who had died defending the corridor where the Room of Requirement was located. A number of his 'old students and contacts' were also present, Slughorn having 'called in a favour' to get backup in the Battle. Amelia Bones would never walk again, paralyzed from the waist down, and Hestia Jones and Mundungus Fletcher from the Order of the Phoenix had died from their injuries, the Healers able to do no more than make them comfortable.

Several Aurors who were related to Hogwarts Students, and therefore contacted by House Elf, were also dead, or seriously injured, having thrown themselves into the line of fire to protect those that they were fighting beside. Cormac McLaggen and a Seventh-Year Hufflepuff that Roisin didn't know had been Kissed by a single Dementor who made it through the line. It had been driven off by Hermione and Ron's Patronus', but not soon enough.

The Barman from the Hogs Head was going to need a wooden leg like Moody's, and possibly an assistant to run his pub, as one arm had been hit by a Withering Curse and might need to be amputated. Madam Rosmerta had lost an arm, and the Healers were unsure if she would ever properly regain the sight in her left eye.

Ernie MacMillan and Professor Lupin would eventually recover, but it would be a long road. Roisin had been clipped by a slow-acting curse that would have resulted in a slow, painful death, if Blaise hadn't dragged her for a check-over once the more serious cases were attended to. Given that it was the very curse he had tackled her out of the way of, it looked like he had saved her life twice-over.

Desdemona and Vince had somehow become stuck in their Animagus forms, but were uninjured, and quietly hiding in the dorms after Madam Pomfrey gave the verdict that they would have to wait for it to wear off naturally, which would take up to a week. She also recommended that they register themselves with the Ministry as soon as possible, preferably before all of the confusion died down and the Ministry started looking for someone to penalize in an attempt to make themselves look better.

Dumbledore had tried to insist that it wasn't over and they needed to find the Horcruxes, but had been Silenced by at least a dozen wands at once, before his brother dragged him off. No one knew exactly what Aberforth had said, but most were betting on a threat of revealing a number of embarrassing secrets if the Headmaster didn't shut up.

That was the curse of a younger brother who had known you for over a century, which was plenty of time to pick up any number of uncomfortable stories, from youthful drunken escapades, to the unbelievably low blow of naked baby pictures that somehow materialize even after you think you've destroyed all of them.

Two Summers ago, Aidan had admitted that the possession of said photos, and the ability to recite a word-perfect account of every humiliating incident in Mary and Seamus's childhood was one of the few things that had kept the twins from bothering him too much. Roisin wondered if she should suggest a similar tactic in regards to five of the Weasley Siblings as a defence against Fred and George.

Fleur was in the Hospital Wing with her fiancée, who had been mauled by Greyback before she had driven the Werewolf away. Given that the quarter-Veela had also managed to make a few Death Eaters turn on their fellows with a concentrated blast of Allure, people were treating her with a lot more respect, and it looked like she had finally managed to rid herself of being labelled as just a Pretty Face.

The Death Eaters were still under the effects of the Draught of Living Death, and every Potions Master in the country had somehow misplaced their supply of antidotes, with even those employed by the Ministry stating that they wouldn't be able to stock more until, co-incidentally, the day that the Death Eater in question was on trial as a War Criminal in front of the ICW. No one was willing to risk any of Voldemort's supporters bribing their way to freedom a second time. With the uncertainty of what would happen to Lucius Malfoy, his wife and son were staying close unless Draco was dragged away by Prefect Duties, duties that Roisin was quietly taking on as much as possible, or until Madam Pomfrey threatened to kick them out personally.

Turning away from the Vigil, Roisin started the trek up to the Hospital Wing, which had miraculously remained intact. Fionna was there, being a singularly impossible patient, which was not helped by being in the bed next to Lucius Malfoy, with Narcissa having practically set up camp by his side. To Fionna, a Death Eater was still a Death Eater, no matter how repentant or what amends they tried to make.

From the way Draco and Narcissa were behaving, Roisin had the feeling that she could look forward to similar fussed-over treatment from her own parents and brother as soon as the Holidays started, as only a report from Winky and the fact that there was no room for visitors had convinced her family to wait the few days until the end of term to see her again.

* * *

But the Hospital Wing was no more peaceful than anywhere else.

The patients who were not asleep or unconscious were either trying desperately to find something else to pay attention to, or clearly looking forward to a bit of street theatre, as Fleur and Mrs Weasley faced off near Bill's bed.

Bill was almost unrecognisable, his face badly slashed and ripped. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his wounds with a harsh-smelling green ointment, Harry and the rest of the Weasleys standing nearby. George's ear and Fred's eye were still bandaged, though they were somehow managing to make light of their injuries. Perhaps because of how much time he spent in the Hospital Wing himself, Harry was confused. "Can't you just fix him with a Charm or something?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, looking very tired. "No charm will work on these. I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."

Ron was gazing down at his oldest brother's face, as if he could force him to mend by staring hard enough. "But he wasn't attacked at the full moon, and Greyback didn't even bite him. Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a – a real – ?"

Un-noticed by the Weasleys, Pansy glanced over from where she was sitting with Draco, as Lupin spoke up from the bed next to Bill. "No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf, but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely to ever heal fully, and – and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

Roisin noticed Draco's hand tighten around Pansy's, and Narcissa cast a Silencing Charm on the curtains around her husband's bed as the man noticed and picked up that there was something significant about werewolf attacks in relation to his son's girlfriend. Narcissa closed the curtains, and Roisin sent up a silent prayer that everything would be all right. Draco had stood firm against Bellatrix, and he had promised Pansy that he would stand up to his family for her. Lucius and Narcissa had proven that they cared more about their son than about pretty much anything, so perhaps it would even work.

Fionna was asleep, so Roisin turned her attention back to the impending drama around Bill's bed. Mrs Weasley had started to cry, taking the ointment from Madam Pomfrey. "Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks… it's not r-really important… but he was a very handsome little b-boy… always very handsome… and he was g-going to be married!"

"And what do you mean by zat?" Fleur snapped suddenly, her eyes flashing and her voice louder and more accented than usual. "What do you mean, 'e was _going _to be married?"

Mrs Weasley actually looked startled as she raised her tearstained face. "Well – only that – "

Fleur over-rode her, clearly furious that her future mother-in-law could think her so superficial. "You theenk that Bill will not wish to marry me anymore? You think, because of these bites, he will not love me?"

"No, that's not what I – "

Fleur did not let her finish, drawing herself up to her full height and throwing back her long hair. "Because 'e will! It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"

Roisin didn't know why Mrs Weasley was so surprised. Ron and the twins had figured out that Fleur was there to stay ages ago, and if they had noticed… "Well, yes, I'm sure. But I thought perhaps – given how – how he – "

Was it Roisin's imagination, or was Fleur's nose starting to seem a little hooked, like a raptor's beak? Surely that hadn't been a wisp of smoke from her clenched fists? "You thought I would not weesh to marry 'im? Or per'aps, you 'oped?" she looked as though she had been holding this in a long time. "What do I care 'ow 'e looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All that these scars prove is that my 'usband is brave! And _I_ shall do zat!"

Fleur snatched the ointment away from Mrs Weasley, deliberately turning her back on the older woman as she took over cleaning Bill's wounds. On the other side of Professor Lupin, Cedric had been sitting with his father, whose leg had been crushed, the shattered bones requiring a tricky operation to remove before they could be regrown, and both men were looking impressed.

No-one dared move, waiting for an explosion, but it never came. When she finally spoke, Mrs Weasley's voice was soft and tentative. "Our Great-Aunt Muriel has a very beautiful tiara. Goblin-made. I am sure that I can get her to lend it to you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

Fleur spent a few more moments to finish tending her fiancée before she turned around, a bit stiff, but willing to accept Mrs Weasley's words as the peace offering it was intended to be. "Thank you. I am sure zat will be lovely."

Roisin would have loved to have seen more, but she felt her grandmother stir, and turned away, closing the curtains and shutting out the rest of the world.

* * *

After visiting Fionna, Roisin quietly returned to the Dorms, where Desdemona and Vince were still in their Animagus forms, with their various Dorm-mates taking turns to keep them company. A haughty black cat, trying to ignore a more-active-than-normal hummingbird, turned back into Blaise Zabini. "Words cannot describe how happy I am to turn these two over to someone else. Is everyone still in the Great Hall?"

Roisin nodded. "Or in the Hospital Wing. You missed a wonderful showdown between Fleur and Mrs Weasley." She touched his arm before he left. "Later, do you think we could sneak out to Hogsmeade of Diagon or somewhere? I think we need to talk."

Blaise nodded. "I'm glad you suggested it. I'll meet you back here in an hour, and we'll change and get a House Elf to take us to the Leaky Cauldron. Mother sent ours to keep an eye on me until I get back home."

Roisin smiled. "Millie should be back by then. We need to set a date to visit the Animagus Registration, too."

Blaise left, and Vince the Wombat shuffled over to curl up beside her. Roisin opened a book that she had found in the Library, detailing native Australian Plants. "None of us have any idea what Wombats eat, so pick something that looks tasty."

The wombat gave her a disbelieving look, turning up its nose and ambling over to his bed, trying to scramble up. Sighing, Roisin went over and lifted him up with a grunt of effort. "Fine, I'll let Millicent try and get an answer."

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling with customers, all discussing what had happened at the Battle of Hogwarts and who they had heard it from. Unsurprisingly, very little of it was even close to the truth.

Blaise ordered two Butterbeers from a harried server who was too busy to care about the two customers who looked suspiciously school-aged. "Do you want to start?"

Roisin sighed. "I should probably apologize for kissing you. We aren't together, and while I hope we will stay friends, I don't think that a romantic relationship with each other is in the cards anymore."

To her disappointment and relief, Blaise looked almost grateful. "That's actually very close to what I was about to say. I won't say that I'm sorry, because I'm not, but I would like to stay friends, without making things feel weird between us."

In spite of herself, Roisin smiled. "We can agree that it was the heat of the moment, and not to be repeated, then?"

Blaise nodded. "For the record, I am sorry about the way we broke up. You deserved better than that, especially after the relationship we had."

Roisin's smile was shy this time. "It was good, while it lasted. I could have handled it better, too, and I should have known better than to keep my family secret. I'm not ashamed of my roots, and It's wrong to keep secrets from friends."

Blaise smiled back, a rare sight under any circumstance. "That is actually what upset me the most. I won't deny being a bit of an elitist, but I was upset that you thought that you needed to lie to me. I'm not quite so shallow to let blood status stop me from dating the girl I care about."

Hermione had suggested something similar, but a then-seething Roisin hadn't been in any mood to listen at the time. She lifted her mug. "Friends, then?"

Blaise clinked his glass against hers. "Friends, and good luck with your parents."

Roisin smiled ruefully, sipping her drink. Her parents were going to be insanely over-protective, but Mrs Zabini took protectiveness to an art-form when it concerned her only child, the last reminder of her beloved first husband. "Likewise."

* * *

The Ministry of Magic was still in too much chaos to pay attention to the little things, and Desdemona had a third cousin in the Registrations department. Roisin had planned to register eventually anyway, as wolves were extinct in the UK, and since none of them were planning to go into espionage, the only real disappointment was that remaining unregistered Animagi was somehow much cooler than being registered Animagi.

Luckily, Vince and Desdemona were so relieved to be back in their human forms (being able to turn into an animal was great, but no-one wanted to stay that way forever) that none of the Slytherins complained about it.

* * *

The real surprise came on the second-last day of term, when Ministry Aurors crashed the End of Term Feast to arrest the children of Death Eaters, under suspicion of being Accessories to their parents' crimes.

A few skidded to a halt under the force of Professor McGonagall's glare, and it was plain that several more were only there under threat of losing their jobs, and were deliberately hanging back. The more enthusiastic remainder of the Aurors were stopped by the combined force of every student in the hall.

Harry's face was dark with anger as he stepped forward. "I don't know where you got your information, but most of those students you're trying to arrest fought beside us, _against _Voldemort."

The Patil twins joined him. "Half of them have been staying with friends and refusing to go home because they actively refused to serve him."

The DA moved to block the Aurors from the students in question. Millicent glared and flexed her muscles, and even little Dennis Creevy gave his best effort at looking fearsome. Professor McGonagall swept forward, fixing them with the stern glare that had cowed generations of pupils, which most of the Aurors probably were. "Please vacate my school. Now."

The Aurors left, a few of them casting apologetic glances, and one or two muttering threats along the lines of '_we'll be back'_.

Harry sighed as the door slammed behind them, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hermione, can I get you to make up some more DA galleons before we leave tomorrow. I'm not letting the Ministry throw more innocent people into Azkaban just because they want to be seen doing something."

Hermione nodded, looking resolute. "I'll get on it tonight. You and Anthony can help me, you might as well learn how."

The tension lifted as everyone cheered louder than they had at the House Cup being awarded (Slytherin, in case anyone cared). Looking around, Roisin let herself smile.

Somehow, the entire school joining together almost made the battle worth it. They hadn't fought or died for nothing.

* * *

The ride on the Hogwarts Express was free of the tension that had filled it the last few years, and the farewells much more varied, with students from different Houses, even if they barely knew each other, taking the time to say goodbye.

Giving her friends a last hug, Roisin walked through the portal to Kings Cross station, where her family waited.

Life was good.

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_A/N: Well, the chapter is a bit late, and much shorter than it was supposed to be, but here you are. As always, Constructive Criticism is much appreciated. _

_So, I have a question for everyone. Should I end it here, or continue? I have plans for an Alternate Year Seven and 'What Happened Next', but it depends if anyone is really interested._

_On a side note, has anyone seen the movie __**Brave**__? Very awesome, and I finally got FF.n to put up a category for it. Two of my newest stories are there, a one-shot and a current-one-shot-soon-to-be-chapter-fic._

_Also, I went and saw Harry Potter World at Universal Studios last week. There. Are. No. Words. To. Describe. _

_The Virtual Coaster through Hogwarts made me hate Acromantulas even more than I already did, and convinced me that Quidditch Players are __MENTAL__, but was still beyond awesome. The gift shop even had a stuffed baby Norbert(a), Fawkes, Hedwig and Fluffy! Honeydukes was stocking edible Dark Marks and U-No-Poo candy._

_I have photos._

_Thanks, Nat_


	96. A Summer Of Change

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. Can I stop doing these now? I'm sure you got the picture over the past __**95**__ chapters!_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-FIVE**

It had been a summer of surprises.

With Mrs Weasley busy fussing over her own children, and therefore not available to complain about Sirius's parenting skills, Harry's Godfather had decided that now would be a great time to ride back to Grimmauld Place on his motorbike. Luckily, he was starting small, as London was hardly the place for a flying motorbike, no matter what enchantments were on it.

Of course, that meant going to the Muggle part of King's Cross station, after shrinking Harry's trunk to pocket sized and fighting their way through the crowd of well-wishers. They emerged just as Roisin managed to wriggle out of her family's embrace, and in time for the first Surprise of the holiday (which really did deserve the capital letter).

Roisin's mother gave a cry of relief and swooped down on Harry, hugging him for what was probably the first time in his life.

Harry probably couldn't have looked more surprised if someone had hit him over the head with a stock-fish, and it didn't get any better when Petunia almost-tearfully proclaimed her happiness that he was all right, or when Dudley walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, muttering a less emotional and more 'manly' version of the same.

Roisin tried very hard not to giggle at the scene.

* * *

The Second Surprise was that Roisin's parents did not plan to pull her out of Hogwarts and make her spend her last year at Beauxbatons.

It was especially surprising after they had managed to get the full details of the Battle of Hogwarts, as it was coming to be called, from Winky, Fionna (half insensible from painkillers at the time) and the _Daily Prophet_. Roisin hadn't even had to do any fast talking.

As it turned out, Roisin's father only needed to be at the new Grunnings branch until it was up and running, to give a few up-and-coming young officers a chance at experience in running an already-established business. The other Senior Partners felt that the new branch could also use some new blood, taken from those who actually wanted to work internationally, and wanted to train a few officers at home before transferring them to slowly take over at the French branch.

If they chose, Roisin's family could be back in England before Christmas. With the war over, the Dursleys were leaning very strongly toward that idea, and planned on spending at least the first month of the Summer Holidays in England. Petunia was a Housewife and Vernon had at least half a year of holiday leave stored up, so that wouldn't be hard.

* * *

The Third Surprise was when the Malfoys, in a bid to show that they were reformed (and keep Lucius out of Azkaban) sponsored an outing into the Muggle World.

Roisin was only convinced that the world hadn't turned upside down when Draco confided that this meant sending Draco to the theatre with a mixed group of other students, while Lucius and Narcissa booked a private parlour at a top-class restaurant for a quiet night out together.

The end result was a group outing to '_Phantom of the Opera'_. Greg, Blaise and Vince had been unable to come, but the rest of Draco's Year Mates had accepted the invitation, along with Harry and Parvati (Ron and Hermione were spending time with their family), Seamus and Lavender, and Dean and Cedric, who had come as friends so that Roisin and Millicent wouldn't be stuck as spare wheels.

If the general reaction to the show and special effects, especially the reactions from the Purebloods, was any indication, Hogwarts would soon receive a large donation toward introducing a 'Creative Arts' Elective. All Roisin would have to do was bring it up over dinner at the restaurant they were going to next.

Celestina Warbeck and The Weird Sisters were half-way decent, but they were also self-recorded, and probably had day-jobs. Most magical painters had to study overseas or have professional tutors if they wanted to actually learn things. A school for the Dramatic Arts, or even just a Hogwarts elective, would go a long way.

According to Theo, the idea had been brought up several times before, but always fell through due to a lack of funding. With students raving about how the Muggle World was doing so much better in certain areas, it was likely that someone in the Ministry would be provoked to approve funding, if only to prove that Wizards were just as good.

Wanting to get out of the crowds that were filling the foyer in lines for the bathrooms or the Souvenir Stand, Roisin exchanged Muggle Money for galleons with those who had forgotten, told Desdemona to buy her the soundtrack and a T-shirt, and walked out of the theatre, hand in hand with Cedric, who was still enthusing over the show. "Are you sure there wasn't a wizard or witch on the Special Effects crew? That was nothing short of incredible!"

Roisin somehow managed not to laugh. "Muggle technology is a lot more advanced than the Muggle Studies class gives it credit for. That was purely lights, electrical engineering, costume make-up and a few chemical compounds to create the smoke and mist."

Unlike most purebloods, Cedric didn't automatically scoff at the idea. "Which was your favourite song? I liked 'Phantom of the Opera' best."

Roisin blinked. "You mean I have to choose? 'All I ask of you', probably. I loved them all, but that just had the most passion. Christine and Raoul promising to love each other forever, then the Phantom swearing vengeance, Christine's obvious fear when she realized that he would never let her go… just thrilling."

Cedric twirled her on the spot. "'Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… anywhere you go let me go too…'"

Roisin pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead in a dramatic gesture. "Say the word and I will follow you… preferably to the restaurant, because I'm starving and I want to get out of the crowds."

An older couple passed in front of them, the very image of everyone's dreams of the future when they saw two seniors sitting in a park together. The woman, who looked the walking definition of a sweet old grandmother, smiled at the younger couple. "Don't they make a picture, Bill? Remember being young like that, on our first outing together?"

Cedric choked on nothing, and Roisin turned bright red, and the couple had passed out of hearing by the time they composed themselves. Cedric gave her an awkward look. "Is there a correct response here? I mean… well…"

Roisin stifled laughter again. "Probably not, but I'm having fun watching you try. Oh, good, you're back."

The last sentence was directed to the rest of their party, who had just emerged, all clutching bags. Parvati didn't let go of Harry's hand. "The lines took a while. What were you talking about?"

Roisin was not going to tell Parvati about the old couple. "We were comparing favourite songs, though I found it hard to choose just one. What was yours?"

Lavender hummed a few bars of 'Angel of Music'. Millicent gave an almost girly sigh. "Mine was 'Music of the Night', definitely."

Dean opened his mouth with a wicked grin, but stopped himself in time. Seamus was too far away for anyone to elbow into silence. "There's a really good comeback quote there, but I don't want to get slapped."

If it was the line '_touch me, trust me, savour each sensation' _he was going to get more than a slap. Lavender gave him a flat look. "Wise decision. Where was the restaurant, again?"

* * *

Parvati and Lavender had matured over the past year or so, but they were still gossips, and once they started raving about the experience, half of Hogwarts would know about the trip to the theatre.

Some purebloods were disbelieving about the special effects, but several more were interested, and Roisin found herself besieged by curious students asking about setting up a theatre visit. Why they were asking her instead of a teacher, Roisin didn't know, but sent a letter to her parents, inquiring about what was currently showing and when, and planning what to say to the professors in order to organize some kind of trip the next Hogsmeade Weekend.

A Portkey could get them to and from the general area, and it would be easy to organize tickets if Roisin got money and permission from parents, especially if any of the shows were offering packages of some kind. Roisin knew that some theatres gave a discount for parties of a certain number or more, or offered promotional additions of the show and a meal at some associated café or restaurant before or afterward. _The Lion King _was touring soon, and had received some wonderful reviews, according to Roisin's mother, and Roisin had always wanted to watch from one of the fancy boxes...

* * *

The Fourth Surprise was the announcement that Aiden and Aiobhe were expecting a child, the estimated birth date only ten months after their wedding.

There had been a minor scuffle when Seamus had mentioned that Aiden and Aiobhe hadn't wasted any time, as they announced that the baby's expected date would be not quite a year after their marriage, but overall, everyone had been thrilled.

There were spells to sew or knit, and those spells probably would have made the stuffed toy more realistic-looking, but Roisin chose to sew a toy for her soon-to-be-born new cousin anyway, a project that took up most of her spare time.

That brought her to her current position, visiting Harry at Grimmauld Place and sewing in an armchair after dinner as she listened to Hermione, Parvati and Ginny play Exploding Snap while Harry, Ron and Sirius discussed Quidditch. She had finally made the wings properly, although they still looked like soft, wing-shaped attachments, rather than anything belonging on an actual dragon, and the body was turning out as it should be.

Harry and Ron chose that moment to look up from the discussion to see why she was so quiet. "Hey, Roisin… what is that?"

Roisin pinned him with an icy look. Fine, so her stuffed dragon wasn't the best, but that was no reason to make an issue of it! "My cousin's wife is expecting a baby, and every child should have a stuffed toy, so I'm making one for it."

Harry quickly asked Ron's opinion about the Chudley Cannon's chances in the League this year (non-existant, but try telling Ron that) before the red-head could make an incorrect guess about what the toy-in-progress was actually supposed to be.

* * *

The Fifth Surprise was probably the most surprising, but in a very good way.

Despite their threats at the end of term, the Ministry had not tried to arrest the children of Death Eaters as proof that they were actually doing something, even if it was well after the fact.

The Ministry of Magic did try, once, marching on one of the smaller Malfoy properties, where several children whose Death Eater parents had been killed or imprisoned were staying until proper and more permanent arrangements could be made.

Fortunately, the children and students in question had taken Harry's suggestion of keeping the DA coins on them at all times seriously. The Ministry hadn't even made it through the first ward when the residents called for help, and everyone who could Apparate of convince someone to make a Portkey showed up, ready for a fight.

Even the slowest Ministry employee wasn't stupid enough to try to attack national heroes with no Dark Supporter taint to their names, which meant that the Ministry supporters backed off and left.

Someone higher up on the Chain of Command was smart enough to realize that if a group had a way of instantly contacting the rest, then individuals were only likely to have better methods, and the bad PR made it not worth trying again.

* * *

Things settled down a bit after that, with the Wizarding World too busy rebuilding to have many fiascos or major screw-ups by the Ministry, which meant that the news was mostly taken up by reports of the Death Eater trials.

There was one blow up, thanks to Rita Skeeter and her Quick Quotes Quill, but it was solved quickly enough.

_THE BOY-WHO-LIVED-TO-CONQUOR, OR THE WIZARD-WHO-KILLED-TO-REPLACE?_

_Only days ago, on the grounds of what was thought to be the safest place in Britain, the Boy-Who-Lived finally faced You-Know-Who, destroying him once and for all._

_Does this mean that all is well, or will the vacuum of power give rise to a new Dark Lord? What kind of magic would have to be used to defeat the most Powerful dark wizard in living memory? Inquiring minds fear to know._

_Sources state that Potter wished to lead the students in a charge, before Ministry Aurors stationed at the castle could call in reinforcements. Luckily, cooler heads less enamoured with thoughts of glory, prevailed, calling in Ministry Aurors and adult Witches and Wizards more equipped and prepared to handle the situation._

"_The tactics and spells were sneaky, creative, and a few that were just plain __wrong,__" says one student, shuddering at the memory. "I mean, that one ploy should have been banned by a Geneva Convention, and I never want to be on the wrong end of those rune clusters."_

_This brave source declined to say more, perhaps fearful of retaliation, but a Ministry Auror who was present had this to say: "For all they Boy-Who-Lived and Chosen One hype, I have to admit I was unimpressed. Potter didn't use anything above OWL level, except for a few curses that I've never even heard of, and I make a living fighting Dark Magic!"_

_A third source agreed. "Potter was starting to lose before Voldemort tripped on a rock, which let him get the final blow. The victory of the Boy-Who-Lived was little more than sheer luck!"_

_So, Potter won the day by using a few Fourth-Year spells, and curses so dark that not even trained Aurors have heard of them. It was revealed two years ago that Potter had a connection with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and we were blocked from discovering just how deep that connection ran. Could it be possible that Harry Potter, Slayer of [You-Know-Who] is not a hero, but only killing off the competition?_

_The Boy-Who-Lived and his friends have not responded to the _Daily Prophet_'s requests for comments, and we are forced to ask ourselves: What are they not telling us?_

As nearly every student in Hogwarts, and several survivors of the Last Battle, could state that almost none of the article was even within shouting distance of the truth, there had been a mass-cancellation of _Daily Prophet _subscriptions.

Compared to the rest of the Wizarding World subscription base, this was not enough to really get the _Daily Prophet_'s attention, but a withdrawal of advertisements from those students with family in Trade, certainly did. A few exclusive single- and group-interviews with the other newspapers, much like in Fifth Year, giving a proper description of what had _actually _happened, brought about a hasty retraction of the article and a very eloquent apology.

* * *

Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were being repaired, but it was slow going, especially because the workmen had to operate around business hours. With many businesses fleeing during the War, or still setting back up after going into hiding, those that remained were scrambling to keep up with demand.

For those students who planned to follow Fred and George's example and start up their own business once they graduated (The Business seminars for Seventh-Years were going to be very full this year) this was good news. For the rest of the population, it was causing no small amount of trouble in everyday life.

There were also rumours of the building companies working on another village like Hogsmeade, as the Baby-Boom following the First War with Voldemort would be coming of age soon, and couldn't be expected to stay at home forever.

Unspoken was the fact that most Muggleborns and a large portion of Half-Bloods tended to take the easy path and disappear back into the Muggle World, rather than battle through the prejudice that infused far too much of the Wizarding World. With the Magical population declining as a result of four wars in the last century (England had officially been uninvolved in the Vietnam War), having two thirds of the population leave as soon as they finished school, was not necessarily a good thing.

The Ministry had been making noises about greater appreciation of the Muggle World, though everyone knew it was more to try and appease people and dispel the claims of Ministry Prejudice than anything.

The Government seminars for next year were also filling up quickly, and there was talk of bringing in Assistant Teachers to run a few more classes, just to accommodate everyone. The vast majority of students were fed up with Ministry Stupidity, and (excluding those who had other plans of thought that they would lower their prospects by calling the Minister and Department Heads incompetent morons to their face) were certain that it would be hard for them to do a worse job than certain current officials.

Meanwhile, several of the more proactive students were taking things into their own hands, organizing Petitions to update the Muggle Studies class, planning to finally do something about Professor Binns, and organizing summer day trips into the Muggle world with their friends. The last idea was with the reasoning that if one or two people in a group of several acted like they had never seen a rollercoaster before, it would still be less conspicuous than an entire group of the obviously clueless.

Many were claiming that the changes were too much, too soon, and asking if the Wizarding World was really ready for such radical movements, but were shot down by those who insisted that the changes in question had been too long in coming as it was, and putting it off would only cause the Wizarding World to stagnate and fall behind.

Not even the most hide-bound traditionalist would try to defend falling behind in progress as a good thing.

All too soon, they received their Hogwarts letters, made the usual trip to Diagon Alley, and packed their trunks.

Summer was over, and their last year of Hogwarts was about to begin.

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_A/N: This chapter took longer than I expected, and is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I am writing a completely original Seventh Year, so bear with me. I'm going to have to make up Classes and NEWTs completely from scratch, as there isn't much information on how NEWTs are conducted, so any help in those areas will be appreciated, even if it's just websites that do have detailed information._

_I finally got a story cover/banner up, using a few souvenirs from Harry Potter World. What do you think?  
_

_As always, Constructive Criticism is welcomed, especially to point out what I am doing wrong. I don't have a beta, and even the best spellchecker can miss things if you type the wrong word that also happens to be in the dictionary as a real word._

_Also, check out my other stories. I've published a few one-shots in various fandoms, and I'd love to know what people think._

_Thanks, _

_Nat_


	97. The Last Journey to Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: Really? Oh, fine. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-SIX**

In the interest of dodging fans or admirers (anyone who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts could expect minor celebrity treatment these days, and most were getting thoroughly sick of it) Roisin and her family arrived in London early, having a fancy brunch before walking to King's Cross Station to drop Roisin off before continuing to St James Station. Dudley would be returning to Smeltings, due to his Legacy placement, and had high hopes for the year.

Studying in a school where most of his classes were in French had forced him to work much harder to achieve his normal lower marks, and putting in the extra effort had actually boosted his grades up to the higher end of Average. Hopefully getting back onto the Boxing team, and keeping up the Average grade now that he didn't have to translate everything on top of studying, had Dudley looking forward to the school year, for once.

Hugging her parents and brother goodbye, Roisin continued onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, narrowly missing Greg, who had chosen a less than ideal place to wait. "Whoa! Seriously Greg, that is not a good place to be standing."

The huge boy shrugged. "Well, no-one else was here yet, and I didn't want to wait on the train by myself and miss you – hey!"

Draco and Pansy had just come through, but hadn't stopped in time. Roisin had prudently moved out of the way once she was through the barrier, but Greg had been too busy explaining himself to actually move. "Oof! Sorry, mate. Are you all right, Pansy?"

Pansy picked herself up from where she had fallen on her rump. "Ow. I'm fine, but let's move into a compartment before anyone else runs into us."

They narrowly dodged the arrival of Theo and Desdemona, the latter of whom merely grinned, practically bouncing with excitement and giving an actual squeal of delight when she spotted them. Draco merely sighed. "Who let her near coffee?" he asked no-one in particular, then shook his head, "Never mind, let's just get on board."

They did, quickly finding a compartment and settling in. The three boys started up a game of Exploding Snap, and were quickly banished to the far end of the compartment. Pansy and Desdemona started a discussion on an article in Pansy's copy of _Teen Witch Weekly_, and Roisin pulled out her Rune-spell notebook, planning something impressive for her NEWT year project. She planned on continuing into Mastery on the subject eventually, and she wanted a good track record.

* * *

The rest of their year slowly trickled in, as the Platform began to fill with students and their families. The compartment enjoyed an impromptu bit of street theatre at the dead silence that fell when Dean Thomas and Millicent walked through the barrier holding hands, both trunks loaded on the same trolley, and the whispering that started up as soon as they stepped onto the train. Millicent had barely sat down when they were treated to the sight of Blaise practically trying to pry his mother off of him before he could embark, though he didn't look all that upset about it.

He ignored the smirks that greeted him as he found them and sat down next to Roisin, pulling out a book and settling in for the next ten minutes, until the whistle blew and the train started to move.

The sudden motion upset the House of Cards that the other boys were trying to build, which promptly exploded and set Vince's robes on fire. Roisin extinguished them and started casting a few mending charms, as Millicent pulled out a salve from her trunk to put on the minor burns. She shrugged at the questioning looks. "I'm considering a Healer Apprenticeship next year. Madam Pomfrey is thinking about taking on an assistant, and she gave me a few recipes to try over the summer. I have to show them to her after the feast, and she'll think about accepting me as her apprentice next year."

Pansy grinned brightly. "That's wonderful, Millie!" She looked around, her face becoming a bit pensive. "Do you think it's a bad sign that we haven't been visited by anyone from the other Houses yet?"

Theo shrugged. "It _is_ our last journey to Hogwarts. I'll bet that the other Houses are enjoying it within their own groups. There will probably be a couple of wanderers later on in the train ride."

Roisin closed her notebook. "Well, I'm looking forward to just one year with nothing bigger than our NEWTs to worry about. Maybe we'll even get a decent Defence Professor. No Dark Lord, no Weasley Twin pranks… what?"

The rest of the compartment had exchanged uncomfortable looks. Roisin narrowed her eyes, trying to push away a sinking feeling. Desdemona sighed. "I suppose you were a bit too busy to notice last year, but you had to have realized that there was a sudden rise in pranks after the Weasley Twins left in such a dramatic fashion."

The sinking feeling was back, most likely to stay. "I thought that was just taking up the slack to drive Umbridge insane! I mean, it slowed down again last year!"

Draco shrugged. "Well, we had You-Know-Who to worry about last year. You and Granger are probably the only ones in Hogwarts who don't know about the unofficial competition to honour their legacy."

Would bursting into tears be totally inappropriate? "Honour their legacy _how,_ exactly?"

Pansy squirmed a bit, but was saved from answering when Hermione poked her head in. "Roisin, we have to get to the Prefect meeting."

Right now, there was nothing Roisin would like more than to get away from the current conversation. "Right, come on, Draco. Congratulations on making Head Girl, by the way, Hermione."

The Gryffindor girl preened. "Thanks. Did you get the invitation to Bill and Fleur's wedding?"

Roisin nodded, eager for a change of topic. "Yes, but I thought it was supposed to be held over the summer. Do you know what happened?"

Of course Hermione did. "They were supposed to be holding it in July, but it got pushed back while Bill recovered and they had to switch caterers because the original choice fled during the war and their second and third choice didn't have any openings until the Easter Holidays."

* * *

The Prefect meeting was quieter than the others that Roisin remembered, perhaps because there was a general atmosphere of not having to worry about a rising-again Dark Lord, perhaps because the faint hostility that had always been aimed at Slytherin was conspicuous by its absence. No-one was surprised that Hermione was Head Girl, and a few students would owe each other gold over the bets regarding Head Boy, now that Ernie Macmillan had taken the place.

There were only a few things to sort out other than Patrols, such as a renewed resolve to deal more harshly with any bullying. No one could protest that Slytherins were all Dark Witches or Wizards in the making, though doubtless there would be plenty who would try, and it turned out that there had been a few new problems in Ravenclaw.

Some of last year's First-Years had been on the wrong end of bullying from the older years, but had seen and heard of how Luna had been treated by her own year-mates. The now-Second-Years had reasoned that it must be normal, if the students could get away with bullying a close friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, and remained silent until one of them had a nervous breakdown the day after the battle, reportedly sobbing out the whole tale before Madam Pomfrey managed to force a calming draught into them.

Professor Flitwick had discovered the bullying of Luna at the end of Fourth Year, and had dished out detention, point-loss and a warning of more severe consequences if he discovered it happening again. Discovering that his warning had been ignored had not gone down well, and he had felt the need to make an example to show that he was serious about not tolerating such behaviour. The end result had been that there was no Sixth-Year Female Ravenclaw Prefect this year, Luna's dorm-mate having been stripped of her badge, and all of the guilty parties serving detention until Professor Flitwick thought that they had learned thei rlesson.

Only Padma's earlier attempts to stop the behaviour and belief that theproblem had been solved, coupled with genuine ignorance from Terry and the then-Fifth-Year Male Prefect, let them off with a very stern lecture. Roisin wondered if perhaps that was why Ernie beat Terry out for the Head Boy position.

Pranking wasn't really serious enough to bring up in a meeting, unless it got out of hand, and everyone else supposedly knew, so Roisin chose not to mention the _'Weasley Twins' Legacy'_ for now. No-one had yet matched Fred and George's sheer inventive genius so far, and Fifth Year had been as much to drive Umbridge up the wall as anything, so the Pranks probably wouldn't be any worse than last year.

* * *

Or at least, that was what Roisin had thought, until she and Draco returned to the compartment and saw the others going over the Haiku version of last year's Sorting Song, with Blaise translating the Runes back into English for the others. "Dare I ask what you have planned for that?"

Her Year-Mates jumped, having been too absorbed in their plan to hear the two prefects return. "Er…"

Vince didn't have the sense to look for an excuse, and started explaining. "Well, since we have to pull at least one big prank we thought that we'd get started early. We figure that the Sorting Hat might be getting tired of reciting the same style of verse every year, and you've got the basic concepts covered right here…"

He finally noticed her displeased eyebrow, and what Roisin assumed was Draco making frantic 'shut up' gestures behind her, and trailed off. Roisin threw up her hands. "You are not using anything that can be connected to me for this! The Sorting Hat is a powerful magical artefact over a thousand years old! How exactly are you planning to enchant that?"

Blaise gave up the game for lost. "Well, an Arithmancy-based field around the Hat, based on a few secrecy charms, could conceivably change what people hear, no matter what the Hat actually says. It doesn't have a mouth, just a tear in the brim, so no-one will be able to lip-read and figure it out. It won't take much; just transform whatever the Hat says into Haiku."

Desdemona nodded. "That still leaves the problem of when to cast the spell, but McGonagall sometimes brings out the Sorting Hat before she collects the First-Years, and I heard Susan Bones telling Hannah Abbot that if Snape was still there this year, she was going to hex him, Prefect or not. Padma mentioned casting a revealing spell at the Defence Professor of the year, though I think she was joking. If we 'mingle' a bit before going to our House Table, we can hide casting the spell within those instances."

And they had already put far too much work into this for Roisin to talk them into not doing it. She sighed. "Whatever, I'm going to visit the other DA members so I can claim ignorance. Don't blame me when it all goes wrong."

* * *

She wandered a bit, greeting various other students that she knew in passing, before she found Harry in the middle of discreetly snogging Parvati, both being carefully ignored by Hermione, Anthony, Ron and a quiet Hufflepuff that Roisin thought was called Sally-Anne Perks, and quickly left again before they noticed her.

Padma and Terry, accompanied by the Fifth-Year Ravenclaw Prefects, were going around the train having a 'Quiet Word' with all the Ravenclaws they could find. Dean was sitting with Seamus and Lavender, and the O'Conner Twins, and Roisin joined them, listening to Seamus excitedly relay that he had secured permission to go to Hogsmeade on Weekends to help Aberforth Dumbledore at the Hog's Head and learn how to run a pub, as he planned to open his own in one of the potential new Wizarding Villages once he graduated and saved up the money.

He was just winding up as Roisin entered, and she broke the ice by asking if he had heard anything more about the proposed plans. Lavender said that she hadn't, but there was a lot of speculation, and the idea was gaining support amongst the average witch and wizard. This discussion, and Dean asking about further studies in the creative arts, lasted another two hours, by which time Roisin felt safe in returning to the Slytherin compartment.

When she got back, everyone was involved in normal train ride pass-times, so they had either given up, or finished plotting. Holding back a sigh of relief, Roisin took advantage of legally being allowed to practice magic and opened her Charms book, hoping to get a head start on schoolwork.

* * *

Dusk had fallen when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, the students milling and crowding as they disembarked, and the First-Years fighting their way toward Hagrid's booming call. The older years waved to friends as they headed toward the carriages, and Roisin felt a brief pang of sorrow at how many of them stopped to pat a Thestral before climbing aboard.

To see a Thestral, you had to have first seen Death, and not even the most fanatical Zoologist would argue that it was a very steep price to pay just to get a visual image of a beast, no matter how magnificent you might think the animal in question to be.

* * *

But if the train station had been hectic, it was nothing in comparison to the outraged commotion that waited in the Great Hall. Of course, Roisin had to admit that the shouting and furious protests were perfectly well-founded.

Snape, who had been the one to lead the Death Eaters into Hogwarts last May, was sitting at the Head Table, acting as though it were only natural for him to be there.

From the scorch marks that littered the flagstones and walls surrounding the Head Table, Susan Bones had not been the only one to express displeasure over this. Even as Roisin struggled to close her mouth, her jaw having dropped open in shock, another hex came from the crowd of students, rebounding off a shield that, while battered, looked as though it was probably there to stay. Roisin reminded herself to get to the Owlery as soon as possible and write to Cedric. Even if he didn't know what the hell was going on that Snape was apparently still free and employed within ten leagues of largely defenceless children, at least he would be willing to listen to her rant in writing.

Unusually, but certainly understandably, the other Professors were making no move to stop the students. Professor McGonagall could spot trouble so fast that several students suspected that she had some kind of in-built radar, and most would have expected her to come down on the perpetrator like a tonne of bricks. Contrary to expectations, she ignored a curse that shot right in front of her nose, only leaning back out of the way as she listened to a clearly unhappy Professor Sprout, lips pressed into the thinnest line Roisin had ever seen.

Blaise used the opportune spell as a cover to cast his spell at the non-enchanted stool upon which the Sorting Hat would be placed. Roisin nudged Desdemona. "Your Patronus is the smallest; can you send a message to Hermione, Padma and Susan to meet in the Room of Requirement after the Welcoming Feast? I think we need a plan."

Desdemona nodded, ducking out of sight, and moments later, three flashes of silver darted out from behind a suit of armor. One zipped into the Great Hall, and the other two disappeared into the growing crowd of students. Feeling far less optimistic about the coming school year, Roisin gloomily walked to the Slytherin table and sat down, letting her head thump down onto her folded arms.

Her reaction was echoed several times over as the rest of the students slowly trickled in, with occasional variations of someone having to be physically restrained by their friends, and more than a few students freezing in place before letting out some very inventive and colourful language

Finally, Professor McGonagall led the First-Years into the Great Hall and brought in the Sorting Hat. The Seventh Year Slytherins leaned forward slightly, waiting to see if Blaise's spell had worked. The ripped seam that served as the Sorting Hat's mouth opened…

_Great place of Learning  
__For young witches and wizards  
__Our school is Hogwarts_

_Gryffindors Daring  
__They go out drinking one night  
__Then fight a dragon_

_As farmer to soil  
__Hufflepuffs are Hardworking  
__Loyal to their friends_

_Birds of a feather  
__Ravenclaw values wisdom  
__Knowledge and learning_

_Like Strangler Vines  
__Slytherin is for the sly  
__Prizing Ambition_

_Teachers and classes  
__The Founders created me  
__Sorting the Students_

_United last year  
__Hogwarts brought down the Dark Lord  
__May this continue._

The Hat somehow managed to look faintly affronted as it bowed to the four tables, as the Professors and a number of students tried to conceal their confusion, with varying degrees of success, and the Seventh-Years exchanged discreetly triumphant looks. They definitely wouldn't be taking credit for that until the end of the year, but it was good to know that they did manage to succeed. Professor McGonagall pulled herself together quickly and began calling names.

Hufflepuff received the most students this year, theoretically (according to Pansy) because they were awestruck at the amount of loyalty and teamwork shown by last year's Hogwarts students in the Last Battle, and wanted to emulate them. Roisin hoped that such an attitude would wear off quickly.

The Welcoming Feast also passed as usual, though Roisin found herself feeling faintly wistful. It wasn't the last celebration that she would experience at Hogwarts, but it was the last Welcoming Feast, and it drove home that this was her last year at Hogwarts, before facing the world as a technically qualified Witch (there were several adults that Roisin would hesitate to term 'competent', much less 'qualified' or 'skilled'). She felt a bit like panicking.

Contemplating this made her eat slower than usual, so Roisin was only a quarter of the way through a large slice of apple pie when her fork clinked down on the table, rather than a plate. She didn't have time to express her annoyance with this fact before Dumbledore stood up, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts, students both old and new! There are one or two Staff changes, which I am sure we are all pleased about. First, Professor Snape has consented to return in his old position as Potions Master…"

Dumbledore paused for the students to cheer or clap, but was only obliged by a few confused Muggle-Born First Years, swiftly drowned out by a chorus of boos and protests from three of the House Tables, while Slytherin remained icily silent. Clearing his throat loudly, Dumbledore continued. "Second, allow me to introduce Professor Thomas Wainsworth, who will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."

A remarkably average-looking man stood up, but Padma wasn't the only one feeling cautious or paranoid. With the track record of a Professor who played parasitic host to Voldemort, a useless fraud, a Werewolf, a Death Eater, Umbridge (enough said) and Snape, anyone would be suspicious of the latest DADA teacher. Professor Wainsworth staggered back under a barrage of detective and revealing spells, some very impressively complex, but remained upright and in his current form as the spells showed him as relatively harmless. He waved it off and sat down again as Dumbledore continued, repeating the yearly warnings about the Forbidden Forest and using magic outside of classes.

Finally, the Headmaster's face grew serious. "We all endured a terrible tragedy last term, from which we are still recovering. I have been informed by the ICW that some of the students here will be needed to testify in the Death Eater trials. You will be notified of this a week in advance, and due consideration will be taken in regards to your schoolwork during that period. I call upon each of you to assist and support you fellow students during these times."

Lucius Malfoy was likely to be one of those trials, and Pansy wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and Blaise rested a bracing hand on his shoulder from the other side. The others settled for concerned and supportive looks. The scenario was repeated at each of the House Tables. Ambition might be the most frequent attribute to get out of control, but there was always someone who would go too far in pursuit of knowledge, bravely charge headlong into a situation that turned out to be far out of their control, or develop unshakable loyalty and devote hard work in the service of the wrong person.

The silence went on for almost a full minute before Dumbledore broke it again. "And on that note, I think it is time for rest. Prefects, please escort your fellow students to their House Common Rooms. Good night!"

Snape jumped to his feet before the students could exit. "Ten points from each student who tried to hex me! And fifty if it happens again! I will count on my House to report you."

Draco stood up, his expression cold, ignoring Mercrutio promptly throwing a defiant curse three seats away. "Did someone throw a curse earlier? I must have missed it."

Mary joined him, pretending not to have heard the Potions Master's announcement. "Hmm? What was that about curses?"

One of the new First-Years ignored the ample evidence of aggressive spells, especially near where Snape had been sitting. "I must have missed it. Anyone?"

Lisbeth shook her head. "I didn't see or hear anything."

As one, the House rose and filed out of the Hall, the other Houses following in quick succession. Roisin gestured to the Fifth-Year Prefects. "Lead the Firsties to the Common Room and give them a quick speech, then meet us in the Room of Requirement. We're not going to sit back and just let Snape continue terrorizing everyone. After what he did, I won't have him near students. Dumbledore has been ignoring complaints for years, so it's time for us to do something about it."

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: Yes, this took longer to finish than I had planned, but I've been insanely busy. First there was a car accident, then the Transport Authorities had an Administrative Screw-Up with driving records to the point that it's going to take months and possibly a lawyer to sort out the resulting mess – not a good thing when you're looking for work and they ask if you have a car and a drivers licence._

_Add in a case of Writer's Block and working on other stories as well…_

_Anyway, I'll try to keep a regular schedule of updates, though I can't promise._

_I plan for Seventh Year to be a sort of 'coming-of-age' year; preparing for life beyond Hogwarts, the novelty of a year with no life-threatening situations, NEWTs, and a bit of humour on the side. Hopefully I've made a good start._

_I really do like to be told what people think and where I can improve, even if it's only a few words. Flames, however, will be calmly ignored._

_Thanks, Nat_


	98. The Potions Problems

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. The plot of this Alternate Seventh Year, however, is mine._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-SEVEN**

The Prefect meeting did not start quietly.

"_What in the nine hells is Snape still doing here_?"

Roisin hoped that someone had thought to make the Room of Requirement soundproof when asking for a meeting room. Still, it was very hard to disagree with the sentiment as the other Prefects added their own outrage. "_Alright!_ Everyone shut up! Now, I realize that Snape's presence is an outrage and whoever thought it was a good idea is clearly insane, but can we please focus on what we plan to do about it?"

The others subsided with no little grumbling, but at least they stopped shouting over each other, which allowed them to get down to business. Susan spoke first, and Roisin didn't doubt that she was speaking for her entire House. "I don't care if it means I fail the NEWT; I am not going to a single lesson where he is the professor, no matter what the subject."

Not even Hermione tried to dispute that, which said a lot in itself. Ron backed the Hufflepuffs up. "The slimy git showed his true colours when he let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Who's to say he won't try to finish the job his friends failed at?"

No one was trying to dispute that, either. The Sixth-Year Ravenclaw Male Prefect frowned in contemplation. "I don't think that he's suicidal enough to do it by himself, without back-up, but it wouldn't be hard to organize an accident in class, which he was tragically too late to stop."

Draco cut in. "We can imagine plots in our own time. The question is, what can we do to get Snape out of here? The Headmaster clearly wants him here, even if no-one else does, so even a formal complaint isn't sure to get us anywhere."

Hermione looked pained. "I can't believe that I'm advocating this, but maybe we could Boycott his classes? If it's obvious that no one will show up to Potions as long as he's teaching, Dumbledore will have to choose between replacing him, or having the entire school fail a Core Subject, which he would then have to explain to the various Education Officials."

There was a moment of stunned silence, mostly at the fact that Hermione had actually made such a suggestion, before Padma frowned. "It's a good idea, but I really don't want to fail Potions. I want to go into Research when I graduate, and that will be hard if I fail a subject that I've been taking for seven years, and my record shows that I didn't attend a single class."

Parvati's twin had a point, but at least Ernie had a potential solution. "How much does it cost to hire a tutor? Aurors need a Potions NEWT to get into training, and after the Battle last May, a lot of them are on Medical Leave. I bet that they'd be happy to have something to do with their lives and earn a wage while they heal."

The new Slytherin Fifth-Year Male Prefect, Hadrian MacKenzie, spoke up. "My cousin just got her Mastery in Potions, and part of her last year of studies included two months teaching at one of the Day Schools."

Roisin did some quick calculations. "Better come up with a list of possibilities, since there's a minimum of six hundred students who need to be taught, without counting the NEWT classes. That won't be cheap."

The Hufflepuff Fifth-Year Female Prefect raised a hand. "Then we do what we did with the relief effort last year. Everyone donates, say, two galleons per term, and that should add up to enough to pay tutors. Say, one tutor per year from First- to Fifth-Years, then Hadrian's cousin for the NEWTs students."

Colin Creevy, who was one half of the Gryffindor Sixth-Year Prefects after the original Male Prefect of his year had been withdrawn half-way through last year, took his turn on the floor. "We should draw up a notice for the Common Rooms, telling everyone what we planned and appointing someone to take care of organizing things for their House."

Mercrutio shrugged. "Fifth-Years have to look after the Firsties, and Seventh-Years have their NEWTs, so I'll take care of it for our House. Can someone draft a parental permission slip for tutors rather than classes with Snape? It will carry more weight if the parents give permission, and it will definitely stir some people up to discover that Snape is still here, which could work toward a more permanent solution to the problem."

The Ravenclaw Sixth- and Fifth-Year Prefects nodded in unison. "We can do that. We'll do it tonight and get someone to help us duplicate copies before breakfast. House Elves can get them onto the tables after the teachers finish handing out schedules, and we can send them back home with the morning Post Owls."

Hermione nodded. "I'll write up a proposal explaining the situation, our reasons, and what we plan to do about it. I'll get them to you first thing, and you can include them in getting the House Elves to hand them out."

Now was not the time to make pointed remarks about if the House Elves had stopped cursing Hermione's name yet, so Roisin only agreed, checking her watch. "I'm due on Prefect Patrol in five minutes; is there anything else we need to cover?"

Terry raised a hand. "It may be nothing, but does anyone know why the Sorting Hat suddenly changed from rhyming verse to haiku earlier?"

Draco didn't quite manage to hide his smug expression in time, causing everyone to stare. "_You _were responsible for that? _How?_ The Sorting Hat is supposed to be impossible to enchant!"

Draco tried to look modest, while Roisin closed her eyes, having wanted to avoid being discovered as even remotely associated with the prank until it was too late to be punished for it. The blond shrugged. "Well, all of us, really. We got the idea from Roisin, wrote the verses together, then Blaise enchanted the stool that McGonagall puts the Hat on. I suppose it wasn't that funny, but it was more a prank to prove that it could be done, than anything."

Hermione warred between horror at such a blatant rule-violation and interest at the spell. "What kind of spell – "

Roisin sighed and stood up. "You can ask him in Arithmancy tomorrow. You're with me on patrol right now, remember?" Hermione opened her mouth, and Roisin cut her off. "And no, I don't know what enchantment he used. I stopped taking Arithmancy after Fifth-Year, remember?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and Roisin could practically see the cogs in the other girl's formidable mind whirring as she tried to recall the various possibilities. Trying not to roll her eyes, Roisin dragged her away to Patrol.

* * *

As it turned out, the NEWT students would be the first to suffer Snape's wrath with their absence, the Sixth-Years having a double period immediately after breakfast, and the Seventh-Years after lunch.

Thanks to this fact, Roisin was sure that she didn't do nearly as well on the Ancient Runes first-day-back quiz as she would have liked. Still, worse things had happened, and once the test was over, the students were left in peace to work on the rune-spells that they planned for their Seventh-Year projects.

Perhaps it would have been better if she had not done so well on her OWL examinations, as they were a bit hard to top. Even worse, you couldn't copy what a previous NEWT student had done within the past two centuries, and the class had been provided with copies of previous results to make sure that they didn't accidentally try something that had already been done. You could do a Legacy project, where you improved or based your project off that of a parent or grandparent, but that was rare.

The best-scoring Rune-cluster projects, records showed, were ones where the student had invented a spell that anyone could have come up with, like a self-cleaning spell that could be etched onto a cauldron or other object, if you got sick of casting a cleaning charm twenty times a day.

The Vision- and Translation-clusters fell under those standards, really, but Roisin wanted to do something useful. Beside her, Susan perked up at an idea, then slumped again as she saw that someone else had already done it. "At this rate, I'm going to be stuck trying to invent something to make morning people tolerable."

Roisin giggled quietly. There existed no spell, charm, curse or potion that made morning people tolerable, unless you counted someone hexing the more incessant ones when they refused to bugger off until their victim had finished a few cups of coffee, and there probably never would. On the other hand…

Roisin grabbed her notebook and started writing. Maybe not a charm to make Morning People bearable, but instead something to keep them away. Empathy, to keep those above a certain level of cheer at a set distance, and maybe one in reverse, to warn Morning People of rising levels of animosity, which would indicate that the person they were talking to was about to reach for their wand, and that it was time to leave.

Oh, she would come up with something useful, as well, since they had to present two projects, but this would do for a start.

* * *

The Seventh-Year Potions students lingered over lunch, then headed straight for the Room of Requirement, which had transformed itself into a library filled with rare books on Potions and the Hogwarts Electives, so at least they could be productive.

Roisin and Hermione shared an Advanced Potions textbook, on the Potions generally covered in Seventh-Year. Draco used the Vision Runespell so that he and Harry could keep an eye on what Snape was doing. Ron did one for the corridor outside, in case anyone actually came looking for them.

It was hard to concentrate on Potions theory when everyone was anticipating Snape's reaction to his missing students, so Roisin finally left the book to Hermione (there was no shortage of books in the Room of Requirement) and sat down with the rest of the class, watching an image of the Potions classroom, empty except for an increasingly furious Professor Snape.

Being several floors away on the other side of the castle made the sight far more entertaining than it would have been close-up. This way, it was a bit like watching a movie, only they would have to spend quite some time dodging the reality later. Presumably, someone else agreed, and had a more vivid picture in mind, as bowls of popcorn were suddenly interspaced among the watching students, adding to the surreal experience.

Giving a mental shrug, Roisin nudged Draco and offered him the bowl. Her House-mate blinked in confusion, then shrugged and took a handful, passing it on to Harry as Snape's sallow complexion started to take on a crimson hue, rapidly darkening to purple.

Professor Snape moved from changing skin-tone to some very colourful language and even more inventive threats regarding what he would do when he got hold of the 'ungrateful brats' who now made the second class who refused to show up, causing Lavander to gasp and turn pale.

Michael raised a very impressed eyebrow and cast a silencing charm on the area around the Vision Spell. He needn't have bothered, however, as Snape stormed out of the Potions classroom, headed for the Headmaster's office.

With the entertainment now over, the NEWT Potions students went back to studying, but didn't make much progress before a clearly nervous House-Elf appeared ten minutes later, summoning them to the Headmaster's office. Normally, they would have complied, but Snape was still in the Headmaster's office, as well, and no-one had any intention of risking _that_.

Parvati calmed the trembling creature down and pulled out spare piece of parchment, scribbling out a note, her lips tight in a far impression of Professor McGonagall. She rolled the parchment up and handed it to the elf. "Here, put this on the Headmaster's desk, and then return to your duties. You don't need to be near the mean Potions Master any more than you want to."

Hermione suddenly looked a lot warmer toward her best friend's girlfriend. "That was nice of you. What did the note say?"

Parvati shrugged. "House elves may serve magical families, but that doesn't mean you have to be mean to them. You get good masters and bad, just like all domestic servants before the Muggles introduced laws about fair treatment in the workplace." The Indian girl caught the surprised looks from the rest of the room, "I did a summer course in Muggle Fashion, for when Lavender and I open our own store after Hogwarts, and to supplement my grades in the Business Seminars this year. They had a section on Workplace Laws."

Hermione looked thoughtful, and pulled a notebook out of her bag. Roisin thought that she caught a glimpse of 'S.P.E.W' on the cover, but shrugged it off. With any luck, Parvati's comments might direct Hermione toward better treatment toward House Elves, rather than the very much unwanted wholesale freedom that she currently advocated. Roisin repeated Hermione's question, "What did the note say?"

Parvati giggled. "I told Dumbledore that we would be glad to come, but we were not going within ten feet of the Filthy Death Eater, so we would wait until they had finished their meeting."

There was a burst of laughter before Hermione, perhaps in an attempt to be nice to her room-mate, moved to sit next to Parvati. "Are you planning to open your own shop? Do you have a business plan yet? What about funding and suppliers?"

Parvati shook her head, looking cautiously pleased at Hermione's show of interest. "We cover Business Planning after the Christmas Holidays, but my family has several trade contacts who deal in fabrics, and one of my cousins specializes in rare textiles. I have an in there, and might even get a family discount. We've helped enough people with fashion and style over the years that we should have a start-up customer base, and we're hoping to get people to invest to get capital."

Lavender backed her up. "I focused more on textiles, but every course we found had something on ethics and laws. The symbiotic dynamics between employer and employee and supplier were actually quite interesting, and some of the Muggle designs were really wonderful, and I can't wait to try to adapt them. I want to know more about mixed-blends. Acromantula silk is all very well, but there is no treatment in the world that can totally get rid of the sticky quality. If we blended it with something else to keep the texture but lessen the stickiness even more, we'd have a fabric that wouldn't stick any more than silk usually does in the summer!"

Most of the Potions Class looked frankly stunned at the before-unseen side of the two Gryffindor Girls, so often viewed as airheads. Harry just looked pleased that his girlfriend and his best female friend were finally getting along. Roisin had heard about the plan from Parvati during Fifth-Year, though not in this much detail, and only grinned, turning her attention back to her reading as Hermione started talking about some books her parents had, from when they started up their own dental practice.

To Roisin's delight, the Room of Requirement had provided a copy of '_Moste Potente Potions'_, which she otherwise would have had to spend weeks waiting to borrow the Library copy. Even on the first day, there was still a line of students waiting from last year, and that was only if you managed to talk a professor into signing a permission note for the Restricted Section.

Pulling out a self-inking quill and reminding herself to send an order for more to Fred and George, Roisin opened the book. '_Of all diciplines of Magick, perhaps the moste wyrd and complex of all is the arte of Potions. These pages hold the moste potente and rare of concoctions, with greate potential, for both good and misuse…_

* * *

The NEWT Potion students managed to dodge Snape over dinner, and the Prefects reported that the letters about a Potions Tutor had been sent, and nearly everyone sounded enthusiastic about the idea, the only exceptions being those in Sixth- and Seventh-Year who weren't taking Potions in the first place. Hadrian's cousin had jumped at the chance, replying by Floo rather than waiting for an owl, saying that she would love to act as a tutor, if they would be willing to act as a reference when she applied for a job as a permanent Potions Professor at Hogwarts in a year or two.

A few Aurors and a Healer at St Mungo's, injured during the war, had also replied with surprising speed, the owls arriving at dinner, and said that it would take a few weeks to arrange for time off or a sabbatical period, but they would be happy to help. It seemed that everyone who had attended Hogwarts in the past seventeen years had less-than-fond memories of being taught by Snape, and would be happy to spare the current generation of students.

There had not yet been a reply from the parents, but the general expectation was for a positive response, and possibly a few parents storming Hogwarts to demand why their children were still at risk from a murderous Death Eater, and why he was still employed in the first place.

One or two Ravenclaws anticipated a pointed letter inquiring why they felt the need to take matters into their own hands. They also anticipated a very uncomfortable conversation at the first opportunity, when they pointed out that being involved in a war that culminated in the Battle of Hogwarts tended to install something of a proactive attitude in people who didn't want another Dark Lord or Lady in their lifetime, which was highly probably if things didn't change.

Roisin was just looking forward to seeing Snape's reaction when he found out what the students, particularly those in his own House, had done.

* * *

Peeves woke Roisin up with a water balloon in the ungodly hours of the morning two days later, and it was useless trying to get back to sleep. Showering and dressing as quietly as possible, she pulled out her rune project, trying to think of the best format to use.

The sun was rising when Desdemona woke, just as Roisin was putting the finishing touches on an experimental rune-cluster. Holding off on the usual cannon-blast charm, at least until she figured out if Roisin was working on something with the potential to blow either of them up, Desdemona bounced over to where her friend sat. "Morning, Rosie – argh!"

The rune-spell worked, but a bit too well, as it sent Desdemona (very much a morning person) flying across the room to land on top of a sleeping Pansy, who bolted upright with a shriek, waking Millicent. The larger girl practically levitated out of her bed, reaching for her wand, a hex on her lips before she was even fully awake.

It was a simple disarming charm, but her aim was off, forcing Roisin to dive out of the way or risk being blasted out the window. As it was, she lost hold of the rune-cluster (her wand was on the desk, the rune in her hand), which flew toward Millicent, who hit the missile with a Reducto hex, which impacted with a very loud explosion. The walls may have been mostly soundproof, but a big enough commotion got people's attention, no matter what the situation.

There was the sound of running feet as the First- and Sixth-Year girls, who were sleeping on either side, appeared, in various stages of sleep-mussed-ness. "What's going on? Are we under attack?"

There was some loud swearing from down the hallway, where a few upper-year boys had also come to see what was happening, and found themselves on the wrong end of the Deterrent Charms that protected the Girls Dorms.

That was enough to make the Seventh-Year girls drop the shields they had cast and straighten up from wherever they had taken cover. Millicent's night-dress was faintly singed, and Desdemona's sleeves were smoking slightly. The desks and closets had protective charms to stop Dorm-mates from pranking each other too much, but Roisin's bedding was distinctly the worse for wear.

A first-year, Helena Roaroke, stared in wide-eyed fascination. "Wow. Will we learn how to do something like that?"

Pansy sighed. "I sincerely hope not, at least not until after we've graduated and don't have to be around for the results. Someone call a house-elf to get all this cleaned up, and let's get to breakfast before anything else goes wrong."

* * *

Things did not settle down after breakfast, either.

Roisin had the morning free of classes, and the Third-Years had a free period before lunch, and had asked if she could help with Transfiguration revision. Roisin had agreed and warned them not to start without someone from the upper years present, just in case.

Perhaps she had been spoiled by the fact that they usually did listen when shegave instructions. Roisin entered the Common Room and came to an immediate halt.

She had left the Third-Years practising Transfiguration, and somehow, between that time and when she returned from talking to Professor Babbling about an assignment, they had gone from turning snails into wooden thread-spools, to turning Lisbeth, David and Sienna into saplings with legs. The others were milling around, trying to figure out what to do without making it worse. Draco, who had been scrambling to finish his Business Essay nearby, and paying little attention to anything else, was staring, his expression clearly stating that he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Roisin wasn't in a laughing mood, but she wasn't in a crying one, either. "Alright, David, Lisbeth and Sienna, come with me. The rest of you have a punishment essay on why not to practise transfiguration on other people, and why not to practice on anything without a teacher present!"

Lisbeth raised a branch. "Er, we aren't in trouble, are we?" Roisin raised an eyebrow and Lisbeth looked down to where one branch had started to grow blossoms, amending the question. "I mean, trouble beyond being half-transfigured."

Roisin gave her a flat look. "I take you to the Hospital wing and fetch Professor McGonagall. They change you back and you get to explain to _them_ what happened and how."

The three tree-people exchanged glances. No one liked telling Professor McGonagall that they had been practising Transfiguration outside of class, especially when they got it wrong. "Can't we just stay like this, please?"

The flat look dropped to icy for a moment before Roisin turned on her heel and led the way out, not dignifying the question with a response, followed by the gloomy but resigned Third-Year saplings.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: The chapter is a bit late, but writing a year from scratch is harder than basing it off established Canon events. I will be away in a Re-enactment War from next Friday to the following Tuesday, with dubious or no computer access (computers being something of a non-issue in the Medieval Era), so I don't know when the next chapter will be up. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one._

_Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Really, thanks, I had a horrible week and few things perk me up like looking at my inbox and seeing a review alert._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	99. It Never Rains But It Pours

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. This version of Seventh-Year, however, is mine._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

**CHAPTER NINTY-EIGHT**

* * *

All things considered, Roisin had been sure, as they sent out the permission slips, that even the most neglectful parent would baulk at the idea of their child being taught by a confirmed and clearly non-repentant Death Eater. Then again, no one had done anything despite years of complaints as an entire generation endured the Potion Master in question, and one or two students had looked very depressed while mentioning that their parents were hardcore Dumbledore supporters.

Even so, she was optimistic about the chances of everyone being given permission to take Potions lessons from a tutor, rather than Snape.

She was very wrong.

Perhaps it was having witnessed the Wizarding World's tendency toward blind faith in Dumbledore's decisions, or Draco and Desdemona's tendency to exaggerate things, but she was honestly surprised when over a hundred parents descended on Hogwarts the next day, lacking only torches and pitchforks to complete the image of an angry mob.

Sixth- and Seventh-Years were delegated as tutors for the younger years, and the OWL students given an extention to finish their assignments, as classes were moved to Common Rooms for the day. The Slytherins put up every ward they knew to keep Snape out, and calmly ignored the raving tantrum on the other side of the Common Room Portal as they took turns between going over the First-, Second- and Third-Year material with the younger students and working on their own assignments.

* * *

Whatever had happened concerning the issue of Professor Snape, the students would have to wait to find out, much to their disappointment, though Susan reported that Snape's trial was apparently being moved up. Conviction of being a Death Eater was certainly one way to get Snape out of Hogwarts and away from any innocent students and vunerable children.

After fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts, the students in question would normally protest being called 'vunerable', but if it finally removed Snape from Hogwarts, they could stand it for a few weeks. Besides, Snape was hardly the only problem to be dealt with.

Hogwarts was even harder to navigate than usual, given that the repairs were still underway, even after the undisrupted work during the Summer Holiday, thanks to a small SNAFU with a supplier of building materials. There was a lot of shuffling classes around, with several being held in the Great Hall or courtyard, due to half-fixed classrooms or building obstructions.

The Hogwarts staff had done their best to manuver around the problem, moving classrooms and allowing a small grace period for tardiness in lessons where you had to take the long way around, but there were a few areas where it just wasn't possible.

All right, the stairs weren't the biggest structural problem that Hogwarts was currently facing, but they were the most inconvenient.

With Gryffindor and Ravenclaw both living in towers, and numerous staircases either not moving from their position (for once) or with large chunks missing, navigation between floors was difficult at best. Most of the professors had relocated to classrooms on the first two floors or in the Dungeons, but Professor Trelawney refused to budge, and Astronomy was not a subject that could really be taken inside a classroom with only a few windows.

The Building Company had made the stairs a priority, and had already built structures to stand, move and work on, but those were designed for a few people at a time, working in a specific area. They were not designed to support hundreds of schoolchildren running to and from classes several times a day.

For the first few days, NEWT Charms students had been enlisted to be stationed at the top and bottom of each damaged staircase before and after classes, and on the most direct path to Divination and Astronomy, to use Levitation or other Charms to get the students across. It worked, but it was taking a toll on everyone, both the Charms students who found themselves spending a lot of magical power to ferry just under a thousand people every day, and the rest of the population, who preferred something a bit more solid than thin air beneath them, especially when they were being levitated by someone else.

The Slytherins could be heard complaining loudly about this as they levitated first a bunch of Second-Year Gryffindors, and then each other over a chasm where a now-shattered staircase used to be. "You'd think that the staircases would be one of the first things that they'd fix. I don't care if they change or not, but it is really starting to annoy me, having to levitate people around right before NEWT-Level Transfiguration."

One of the Gryffindor Second-Years waiting their turn nodded. "Tell me about it. We have to triple-check that we have everything for the day before we leave the tower in the morning, because it's nearly impossible to get back for anything, and we have to wait for an older student to come with us when we go back to the tower after dinner. The Ravenclaws have the same problem."

The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs didn't have so much of a problem in regards to their living areas, being in the Dungeons and on the First Floor, but yes, transport was very much an issue, and the builders estimated at least another two weeks before the stairs were fixed. When the Charms that make the staircases move could be re-cast was anyone's guess, as the Professional Warders were even busier than the Builders.

Ron had made what was possibly his first useful suggestion in a Prefect meeting that Hermione called to come up with a way to deal with the problem, when he suggested using brooms. It was a good idea, but not everyone owned a broom, especially with the First-Year rule, and the school broomshed had been a casualty of the Final Battle, with the school fund having more important things to replace than a few old brooms that were probably a safety risk in the first place (a few older students were allowing their brooms to be borrowed during lying lessons, but unless one broom company was feeling like a _very _generous donation, the problem wouldn't be fixed any time soon). On top of that, the corridors were not exactly easy to manuver through if you weren't a very good flyer, and that was without the idea of broom traffic.

Hermione had suggested a kind of flying fox system, but while that worked for going down, they were still trying to work out how to make people go up, and it didn't account for when you were trying to lug something else, like a large project around at the same time.

Ironically, it was Hermione who mentioned the blindingly obvious, looking particularly pained as she did so. Her analytical mind had considered the feats of House Elf magic that no wizard could duplicate – particularly the ability to pop around, even inside anti-Apparition wards – and concluded that even if she didn't like exploiting the 'poor things', it might be necessary in the short term

As usual, the Hogwarts Kitchen was a hub of elves running around, though they all stopped as Roisin entered, Hermione behind Susan and Padma, several rushing over to see if they could assist her. Knowing that House Elves were a lot happier when they were allowed to fuss, and the fact that Levitating people meant that she had missed lunch, Roisin accepted a roast beef sandwich and a Butterbeer. "Actually, I was wondering something. My cousin mentioned that you are good at levitating things, and can keep it up longer than wizards. We need some help getting people across the broken stairwells."

The first three Seventh-Years shoved Hermione in front of them as a shield as the ecstatic House Elves surged forward in delight to thank them, and promptly created a pile-up in their attempts to avoid coming into contact with the Dark Seamstress.

* * *

In the interest of being able to sit down and deal with things without interruption, the Professors announced an early Hogsmeade Weekend, open to the younger year as a special treat, just to get them out of the way for a few hours. The older students decided to have a small get-together/council with some of the recently-graduated, in the hopes of getting things moving if the Professors were stonewalled by beauocracy.

Cedric was at the Three Broomsticks when they got there, dozing in the private parlour. Resisting the urge to comment on how cute he looked like that, Roisin gently poked him awake before any of the others could arrive. He shot upright, knocking over a half-full tankard of coffee, "It's almost finished, I'm just waiting on a report from another department!"

Regaining his bearings, he met Roisin's amused gaze as she cleaned up the spilled drink with a wave of her wand. He rolled his eyes, "Hush, you."

Stifling a giggle, Roisin sat down with a goblet of pumpkin juice. "Work giving you a hard time?"

Cedric yawned. "You have no idea. Sorry, my boss is very good at doing without other people's sleep. It's been a bit hectic at work, what with Snape on top of the architectural issues."

That was putting it mildly, and they all knew it. The students with family in Ministry positions, especially the Department of Education, had reported that the Ministry of Magic were being bombarded with so many Howlers that a few Junior Aurors were being assigned to every room just to repair desks and put out fires caused by Howlers. Deafening Charms and Shields were becoming very common-place.

Dumbledore might think that having a Death Eater teaching might do wonders to show how anyone could be reformed, but the rest of Wizarding UK was furious that the Death Eater responsible for letting Voldemort into Hogwarts was allowed anywhere near their children (apparently, not being allowed near Hogwarts or its students had been thought such an obvious condition that it had not been included in the agreement releasing Snape into Dumbledore's custody), and were calling for someone's head.

The fact that Hogwarts was still being repaired was another issue that everyone wanted solved as soon as possible. The problem was that every building and small home repair company in the country was already busy with other projects, and it would be at least another month before they were free to come and help.

* * *

The lighter mood of the Professors suggested that a few things had been resolved, but in Hogwarts, it never rained if it could pour. There had been a search for a History Professor, after a Death Eater had tried to banish Peeves with a Poltergeist Exorcism spell and hit Binns by mistake, but it had been slow, as almost no-one had taken the subject beyond OWL level since before Professor Binns had died. Now it was irrelevant, and the students still taking the subject couldn't have been less happy.

"OK, seriously, we fight a war, help to take down the biggest Dark Lord in a century, and still have to put up with history lessons from a ghost? Really, how much smoother could things have gone if we knew more than just a few dates and facts about Goblin Rebellions?"

The Seventh-Years, many of whom had decided to revise goblin rebellions and 're-take' the Sixth Year History exam at the Ministry over the summer in the hopes of having an interesting teacher for just one year, had just come out of a Trial NEWT History Exam. All of the Professors had given one, to reinforce the idea that the students might not have to worry about Voldemort anymore, but that wasn't an excuse to slack off. The message came through loud and clear in History of Magic, where none of them had been able to answer more than half of the questions, most of which had concerned subjects that they had never even touched on. In fact, less than ten of the questions had even mentioned Goblin Rebellions, which did not bode well for their actual NEWT exams.

Unfortunately, the spell had been geared toward Poltergeists, not ghosts, and the ghost professor had been back after only two weeks, though no-one had thought to tell the History of Magic students, much to everyone's disappointment.

Worse yet, so few Hogwarts students took History of Magic beyond OWL-level, and even fewer beyond NEWTs, that there was a distinct lack of teachers available in the subject, which meant that the tutoring idea that they had used to avoid Snape was highly unlikely. While she understood the sentiment perfectly, Roisin still found it very irresponsible of the older generations that no one had been willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of providing a competent teacher for future students.

This was a year-wide agreement, but no one was about to say so. Even Desdemona was slouching along, feeling more than a bit snappy, a far cry from her usual upbeat attitude. "Can't argue there, but can you see anyone else stepping up to try and pound history into a few hundred students, at a boarding school where they are on call 24/7 for ten months out of the year? If you're so worked up, you can do it."

The Wizarding world was useless when it came to taking the inititive by themselves, but excellent at sacrificing other people, as they had repeatedly proven. Still, Roisin gave the idea of teaching some serious consideration. She would need to finish her own schooling first, and get a certification in teaching, but it wouldn't be a horrible career choice. She had a good start with her Rune-Cluster Tablets, but she doubted that she was good enough to make a living out of that field alone. Besides, even teachers had some amount of free time, especially during Summer Break, and few of them actually lived at Hogwarts, many having their own homes that they returned to at night and on weekends and Holidays.

It was something to think about, at least, and a few Ravenclaws were looking contemplative.

.

.

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* * *

_A/N: Well, I'm back, and while the chapter is much shorter than I had planned, I decided to post now to keep things as regular as possible. I'm thinking of having a few Death Eater Trials in the next chapter, what do you think?_

_SCA War was awesome, especially after winning an Arts and Sciences (Embroidery) competition and teaching a class. A pity that the tie-breaker War Scenario got called off when the fighter who manages to injure himself every – single – Event got whacked upside the gorget with a spear and we had to stop combat. The only other problem was when someone tripped over a 'dead' comrade, fell into a tree and knocked his knee out. Sadly, one cannot storm a fort while on crutches. Even if the Bards and the sewing circle have stopped to watch you try._

_An A & S entry ("A short story or poem based on the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse") was posted in the 'Bible' Category, since I didn't know where else to put it, though it's more a humour piece than anything, and the winning embroidery – with about a week's worth of stitching left to finish the smoke – is being used as the Story Banner._

_Anyway, the newest chapter is up, and I hope you all enjoy it. Comments and Criticism are, as always, very welcome, even if you are just pointing out mistakes._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	100. The Death Eater Trials

_Disclaimer: OK, this is literally the hundredth time I've had to say this. I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER NINTY-NINE**

With the parents and adults taking an active interest in the overhaul of Hogwarts (which had surprised many, as the adults had shown a bit of a tendency to follow Dumbledore or the Ministry and just smile and nod to whatever they said) the students were free to just sit back and concentrate on normal, everyday things like schoolwork, plans for the future and relationships.

The established couples were still going strong, despite a small row when Mr Malfoy found out about Pansy's sort-of-werewolf status. Everyone suspected that it would have been much louder, if Mr Malfoy had not been trying very hard to be very careful to present an image of a man who had made some big mistakes that he had been unable to get out of, but was genuinely remorseful and eager to make amends.

Some people were surprised that it was working so well, but the more pragmatic were not. Draco had pointed out that the art of subtly convincing people may have skipped a generation, but the Malfoy family would never have got this far if throwing money at problems was their _only_ solution for when things became difficult.

As it was, the Malfoys looked as though they would escape a decades-long term in Azkaban, though what the punishment _would _be was still up in the air. The Malfoys had changed sides over a year before Voldemort's defeat, and openly. Mr Malfoy had been responsible for rooting out some Death Eaters who had managed to find discreet-but-important places in the Ministry. Mrs Malfoy had taken on Bellatrix, her sister and Voldemort's right hand, alone. Draco had renounced Voldemort _to his face._

Also, part of the agreement with Harry had been that they would turn spy, in exchange for Harry supporting a reduced sentence when the war was over. If Snape had got off on no more than Dumbledore's say-so after the first fall of Voldemort, then an influential man with the lukewarm support of the Boy-Who-Lived had a pretty fair chance.

* * *

This was, of course, the source of the current argument.

The Malfoy Trial was scheduled for two weeks away, after Snape's trial in one week. There was suggestion that students might be called in to testify – at least, the of-age students who didn't need their parents' permission – at Snape's trial, and a DA meeting had been quietly called. They had barely begun when an owl flew in from the Malfoy family Solicitor, asking Draco if there were any volunteer witnesses that he could call while presenting the case.

Draco had reminded Harry that part of their deal was that Harry would vouch for the Malfoys having turned spy, at which point all hell had broken loose.

It took nearly ten minutes before Desdemona got fed up and let off a Canon-blast charm. Having endured this every morning since Desdemona learned the damned spell, the Slytherin Girls remained unruffled, though they were probably the only ones. It took another two minutes before everyone's ears had stopped ringing long enough to talk normally.

It took another three seconds before the Weasleys and most of the Gryffindors started shouting again. Finally, Harry managed to yell them down. "I'M NOT TELLING THE WIZENGAMOT THAT THE MALFOYS SHOULD BE SET FREE WITHOUT PUNISHMENT!"

The room quietened down, and Roisin elbowed Draco before he could say anything. "The Malfoys did turn spy, and we all witnessed Mrs Malfoy taking down Bellatrix. I'll testify to that – let me finish, Ron! – but I won't say that they shouldn't be punished for being Death Eaters. I will tell the truth, and that's all."

Draco moved out of elbowing range and spoke over Ginny, who had opened her mouth to say something. "And we won't ask you to do more than that. All we ask is that you tell the jury that we did turn spy and did pass on useful information, which is perfectly true. The rest, we will win or lose on our own."

It was a very mature speech, really, and Parvati managed to interject before anyone else could speak up to continue the argument. "Can we get back to the topic of Snape? That's why we called the meeting in the first place."

Cooler – mostly Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff – heads prevailed. Padma seconded her twin, "Whoever owes Dumbledore a big enough favour to represent him will probably try to focus on the fact that he has taught at Hogwarts for sixteen years, with a clean record during that time, and that he had been pardoned before. We need to come up with something to counter that."

Justin Finch-Fletchly huffed. "Anyone who took Potions in the years he was teaching can testify that he was a biased, verbally abusive, petty man who wrote down instructions and snapped if you didn't get it right the first time."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully. "Even if he gets off on the Death Eater charge, that's still enough for us to bring up a charge of Professional Misconduct, Abuse of Minors, or something similar. If we make the charges directly to the Wizengamot, since complaining to the Board of Governors hasn't worked, Dumbledore can't just cover it up or dismiss it like he did before. A lesser charge like that might not carry a long Azkaban sentence, but it would get him out of Hogwarts."

Hermione beamed at him, that relationship also clearly stable. "Also, it's going to be very hard to dismiss the multiple statements that Snape was the one to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, which makes him at least an Accessory, and being Complicit with Malice Aforethought, which will be very hard to wriggle out of."

Millicent considered the ideas. "He could make a plea bargain, but I don't see many judges offering him one, especially if we can keep Dumbledore off the Panel as a Conflict of Interest and not being impartial."

Dean blinked. "Will you go out with me next Hogsmeade Weekend? How do all of you even know these things? I mean, I get Hermione, she knows everything, but what about you?"

Anthony shrugged. "My parents are solicitors, and I got dragged to a lot of business parties as a kid. When you like books and most of the reading material in your house is related to Law…"

Millicent tried to look modest. "Slytherin. I've been reading up on this sort of thing ever since we knew that there was going to be a trial, or that we might possibly get called to testify. And yes."

* * *

Snape was to be the second trial that day, after the Wizengamot had finished sentencing Rodolphus LeStrange, the last of that line.

What would happen to him was up for question. On the one hand, he was a now twice-convicted as a Death Eater, one of the very few who had survived the final battle. On the other hand, the Prosecution had been stupid enough to ask if he had anything to say in his defence, and he had pointed out that he was the last of his line, bar a months-old child that explained why Bellatrix had been reported at so few attacks during Sixth-Year.

No one particularly wanted to think of the implications there (Bellatrix wasn't exactly the nurturing type, and no-one wanted to think about what the offspring of two clearly insane Death Eaters would be like), but Andromeda Tonks had volunteered to formally adopt her niece into the Tonks family, so the only thing he really had going in his defence was the possible line-extinction.

After the Dementors had defected to Voldemort, and had not returned after the Dark Lord fell, the Dementor's Kiss was not so much of an option, and the Unspeakables didn't want to use the Veil until they figured out exactly what was on the other side.

Anti-Eavesdropping Charms were in effect, also, so there was no finding out until it was reported in one of the Papers.

They were discussing this in hushed whispers when they were joined by Cedric, still looking ready to fall asleep at a moment's notice. "If I start to nod off, hit me with a stinging hex, would you?"

Most of the students called in to testify exchanged confused looks. Roisin looked sympathetic as she moved over to make room on the bench, ignoring Desdemona's smirk as Cedric automatically rested his head on top of hers, probably the closest he'd come to a pillow in the past several days. "Department of Education still in an uproar?"

Cedric didn't even open his eyes. "Uproar like you wouldn't believe. Between finding a way to terminate Snape's employment that Dumbledore can't get around, fielding Howlers and demands for an explanation as to why we didn't stop Snape from returning to Hogwarts at all, and trying to find an explanation that doesn't boil down to 'no-one told us he was returning, and we were busy, so we didn't bother investigating', everyone is working flat out and overtime."

Ernie whistled. "And we thought that all of the NEWTs preparation we are going through was tough."

Cedric gave a tired laugh as Roisin wrapped an arm around his waist to stop him pitching forward, a move with a strong possibility of making him land either face-first in her cleavage, or on the floor. "I'm starting to miss the week before NEWT exams. That was less stressful, and I think that I actually got more sleep."

Harry tried not to grin, and was elbowed by Parvati. "We'll cast a silencing charm and maybe a Notice-Me-Not around the gallery once you finish testifying."

Cedric's reply was cut off as the door to the courtroom opened. "Witnesses for the Trial of Severus Snape?"

Everyone scrambled to their feet and tried to maintain an air of dignity as they walked inside.

Dumbledore tried to get Snape cleared on the basis that he had been a spy and had fought against Voldemort. This was countered by the fact that most of the information that Snape had passed on concerned updates on where Voldemort was at in trying to access the Prophecy, and nothing that had led to solid evidence for a raid or legal warrant, or information that lead to stop any attacks.

There was also no way to get around the fact that Snape had been the one to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and no claim of information-gathering would excuse the deliberate endangerment of several hundred children, not all of whom had made it out alive. There were even rumours that the Vane and McLaggen families had been looking into hired assassins, in case Snape did get off.

The Seventh-Years had been called to testify about Snape's actions at the Battle of Hogwarts, as outside assistance had not arrived until later. Apparently, they were the last of several witnesses, some of whom had been survivors of a Death Eater raid, and heard or seen Snape participating.

It was damning testimony, and Snape was convicted of being a Death Eater, sentenced to Life in Azkaban, which had been one of the first things to be re-built, though now with Goblin-made wards instead of Dementors.

They had expected that to be all they were needed for, but were surprised to be joined by several former Hogwarts students from the past fifteen years, called in to testify to Snape's complete unsuitability as a Professor.

The favouritism that he showed the Slytherins when he became Head of House, the blatant discrimination toward the other Houses, the verbal abuse and the outright bullying was enough to make sure that he was never permitted to teach again. It was further compounded by pointing out that the worst treatment was saved for those unlucky enough to be the children of those people he had disliked in his own schooldays, an obvious and petty abuse of power. His treatment of the Boy-Who-Lived, and the news that an entire generation of students would refuse to take Potions (or Defence Against the Dark Arts) as long as Snape taught it, resulting in a potential drastic loss of essential knowledge and qualifications, was the final nail in the coffin.

Snape tried to sneer at the Wizengamot when he stood to be sentenced, knowing that Contempt of Court couldn't possibly make his situation any worse, but might make him feel better. Unfortunately, sneering loses its affect when the subject of your ire knows that sneering is all that you can do to them, and you are about to be sentenced anyway.

Tiberius Ogden was not acting as judge for the Death Eater Trials, due to Conflict of Interest, as McLaggen had been his great-nephew. No-one had suggested that Dumbledore be on the panel, much less the judge, for Snape, so the court was being presided over by Rufus Scringemore, who was the closest to impartial that anyone could find.

"Severus Tobias Snape, you stand accused of Abuse of Power while acting as Professor and as _in loco parentis, _of Discrimination, of Neglect, and of Non-action with Intent to Harm while employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You have been tried and found Guilty before the Wizengamot, following testimony by your victims and peers. You are hereby sentenced to a second Life Term in Azkaban, following your conviction having been found Guilty of active participation in the Terrorist Group known as Death Eaters. Aurors, take him away."

Snape reverted to cursing and shouting insults at everyone he could see as he was dragged away, and the Seventh-Years plus Cedric filed out again. Having the afternoon off, as his superior had not known how long the testimony and sentencing would go for, Cedric offered to accompany them back to Hogsmeade.

The Seventh-Years also had the day off, for the same reason, and Justin shrugged. "Actually, I'd love to have lunch in London before we go back. Get away from everyone talking about Voldemort and the Trials, if you know what I mean."

They did, and changed direction for the exit into Muggle London. No longer swaying on his feet from exhaustion, Cedric took Roisin's hand and nodded at his old Housemate. "Best idea I've heard all day, mate. Might want to change out of your robes, though."

Susan looked faintly sheepish, looking over to where Hermione was already transfiguring her robes into a Muggle dress, before following the Gryffindor's example. "Good idea."

Draco sighed as they walked toward the Exits, altering his clothing just enough to look like a slightly-old-fashioned Private School uniform. "Just one more Trial to go."

He got some funny looks, as Snape was certainly not the last Death Eater to be tried. Roisin elaborated, as Draco was clearly too distracted, switching her school robes for a black skirt and teal blouse. "One more that any of us will be called to testify at, he means." She placed a hand on her friend's arm. "It will turn out all right, Draco, you wait and see."

* * *

It did, too, as much as could be expected.

Harry, as promised, did testify that the Malfoys had switched sides in exchange for protection, which Mr Malfoy used to imply that they had only followed out of fear, once Voldemort had returned. The family had hired a very good solicitor, who managed to downplay Mr Malfoy getting off the first time as a preference for not seeming to stay loyal to Voldemort. The solicitor also pointed out that Mr Malfoy had not taken part in any attacks beyond the Department of Mysteries (leaving out the fact that Voldemort had been trying to lie low that year) and the good things that the family had accomplished or donated to over the years, especially after turning spy.

Draco may have inherited his oratory gifts from his mother's side of the family, who preferred to charge ahead and say what they thought without caring how others reacted, but Mr Malfoy hadn't all but taken over the Ministry without a very good knack for twisting words, no matter how good the Ministry Prosecutor was.

There was no way he would get away scott-free, of course, but the main objective was to get as low a punishment as possible. With the Dementors gone, Azkaban wasn't quite a one-way trip to insanity anymore, but that didn't mean he wanted a life-sentence there. He also didn't want his wife and son to bear the stigma of having an immediate relative who was a long-term convict, which probably softened a few people toward him.

* * *

In the end, the sentence wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Tiberius Ogden was acting as Chief Warlock, as he was a bit more impartial in this case, and finally stood to deliver the verdict. "Lucius Abraxus Malfoy, you stand accused of Acts of Terrorism in concert with the Terrorist Group known as Death Eaters. You have been tried and found Guilty by the Wizengamot. However, the Wizengamot has also taken into account your acts of espionage against the Terrorist Group known as Death Eaters, and the testimony of several citizens in good standing, including Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, who claim to have witnessed you fighting against the Death Eaters in the Battle of Hogwarts.

In light of this, the Wizengamot has chosen to reduce your sentence. You will serve six months in Azkaban Prison, and be fined five thousand Galleons, to be donated to the relief fund for victims of the recent war, and an additional thousand Galleons, to be donated to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. In addition, you will be subject to a two-year Probationary Period, during which time any breach of the law will see you in Azkaban for a much longer term. You will also be subject to several Restrictions and Conditional Behaviour in that term of Probation.

For the first twelve months, you will not leave Britain without notifying the DMLE, who will review the case and decide if you may be permitted to travel with Auror supervision. Your home will be subject to random searches at the DMLE's discretion. Failure to comply with these Restrictions will be considered a breach of the law, and be treated as such. You may only refuse entry if the Aurors do not have a warrant. Do you understand these terms?"

Mr Malfoy bowed slightly. "I understand the terms, Chief Warlock, and I thank the Wizengamot for their Mercy."

He practically sagged with relief as he left the dock, embracing his wife and son. Narcissa kissed him softly, their son squashed between them. "We will visit as often as permitted, and you'll be home before summer."

Lucius held her tightly, and then embraced his son again. "Take care of your mother, Draco, and remember that I love you both."

Draco nodded gravely, Pansy taking his hand in support as the Aurors led Mr Malfoy away. Mrs Malfoy hugged her son and his girlfriend before leaving to visit Gringotts, to organize payment of the fine. The Seventh-Year Slytherins flanked Draco as they walked to the Floo exits, heading back to Hogwarts.

* * *

After the trials, life returned to normal, and the biggest thing that the Seventh-Years had to worry about was studying for NEWTs. Sirius's alternate name for the exams, supposedly coined by Harry's father, was 'Never Ever Wait To Start', which was more than appropriate, with the amount of work they had every week.

Roisin wondered if she would even make it a term before Winky was shielding Roisin's desk and forcing her to eat and sleep, like she had near the OWL exams. Time flew by, and it was Samhain before they knew it.

Given all that had happened the previous six Halloweens, Roisin would admit to being slightly nervous as the day approached, but it seemed that all she had to worry about was a certain year of students getting into the 'Trick-or-Treat' spirit early.

She was fairly sure that Seamus Finnigan was responsible for turning her morning pumpkin juice into rum, although it was impressive that he managed to affect only those in Seventh-Year. She finished breakfast without drinking anything else, and went to collect her money pouch. It was a Hogsmeade Weekend, and Madam Rosmerta was sure to have some normal fruit juice.

The Three Broomsticks did have fruit juice, and better still, it had Cedric, looking far more alert than the last few times she had seen him. After Snape's trial, things had apparently died down in the Department of Education, or at least enough that those unfortunate enough to work there were back to being able to eat, sleep and go home at night.

Sitting down and ordering non-alcoholic pear cider, Roisin smiled at the older boy. "You're looking awake."

Cedric laughed. "Yes. The Department of Education staff are taking turns for a long weekend, even the lowly interns like me. My boss says that it's a kind of 'Thank You For Not Quitting And Sticking Out The Chaos' gift. No Butterbeer today?"

Roisin laughed and shook her head. "Smart of your boss. No, someone turned every Seventh-Year's morning beverage into Rum at breakfast, and I prefer to be sober for tonight. Especially if the Pranking Year thing was serious."

Cedric draped a commiserating arm around her shoulders, waving at several DA members who had just entered. "Glad I graduated that year. Mind you, seven years of Fred and George were quite enough for anyone."

They were joined by Harry, Parvati, and a slightly sulky Lavender, who explained her solo status without being asked. "Seamus got called into Professor McGonagall's office for a lecture about the Prank at breakfast. He said he'll join us later if he can."

Professor McGonagall could spot trouble faster than Snape used to be able to take points from Gryffindor, before his arrest and trial. If she wasn't still trying to get the taste out of her mouth (Rum was one of those acquired tastes), Roisin would have felt sorry for the Irish boy. "Well, good luck to him. Did you have any plans for the day?"

Parvati nodded. "We have an appointment at Gladrags. Lavender and I told them that we were doing a survey comparing Gladrags and Madam Malkin's, and wanted to ask them some questions on how they started and ran their business."

That was actually a good idea. "_Are_ you doing a survey?"

Lavender shrugged. "Of a sort. Actually, we're going around to several businesses to see how they run things, so we can figure out what works best for when we start up our own shop. Padma suggested that we needed more Data so we could set up a business plan to present to whoever we approach for a Start-up Capital loan."

Padma might have made the suggestion, but Parvati had come up with a very good way of going about it. "That's impressive work from all of you. Hey, when you do get started, will you let me know? I may want to invest."

Roisin absently noted Harry and Cedric drifting off into a discussion about Quidditch, but was distracted by Lavender's radiant smile. "Thanks!" The blonde girl lowered her voice. "We wanted to talk to you, as well. See, we looked around London over the summer, and we noticed that all the advertisements had models who were absolutely stunning and perfectly proportioned and with figures that you'd have to be on a constant diet and fitness regime to maintain."

Parvati took up the tale. "And while that might be fine for getting attention, it also fosters a sense of insecurity for people who aren't tall, skinny and in their early twenties. So, we want to offer a small bit of work to people of all ages, shapes and sizes. We already approached Susan for red hair and average height, and we talked to Angelina Johnson and Padma about the darker skin tones. We think you would be good for the taller than average and dark hair selection."

When advertising for a local population, that was actually a very good idea. Roisin remembered her mother hosting a 'Farewell Tea' for the other neighbourhood ladies before they moved to France last summer, and one of the things that the local gossips had mentioned was an article in a magazine about Supermodels being promoted too much and leading to inferiority complexes and shockingly inappropriate fashions among the impressionable youth. Roisin had retreated upstairs when an older lady had commented that at least she was properly dressed (black slacks and a green, short-sleeved tunic top) and what did she think about the rising popularity of mini-skirts?

She dragged her thoughts back to the Three Broomsticks, where Parvati and Lavender were looking at her patiently, waiting for some kind of answer. "Let me think about it. I plan on studying further after Hogwarts, so a lot of things will depend on my schedule."

Lavender waved a hand. "We can deal with that. We talked to Luna and your cousin Mary about average blonde and smaller red hair and they'll still be in Hogwarts, so scheduling would have to be flexible anyway."

If nothing else, it would be a source of income while she studied. She spotted Seamus Finnigan (looking not much the worse for wear) and her Third Years. on their first visit to the village, making a bee-line in her direction. "Tell me when you get set up, and we'll work on details. We're about to be interrupted."

Luckily, Lavender and Parvati were cousins to two of the aforementioned Third Years, and Jia Li was a romantic. Richard and David had barely opened their mouths before the tiny Asian girl glared at them, Seamus having just sat down. "No! Can't you see they're on a date? Roisin doesn't even get to see her boyfriend in Hogwarts, so we will not interrupt them! We can take turns choosing a destination!"

The three girls dragged their Year-Mates away before any of the older students could comment, and Roisin gave Cedric a shy look. "Er, sorry about them."

Cedric grinned and shrugged, not removing his arm from her shoulders. "No problem. Aside from NEWT study, how are things at Hogwarts?"

* * *

Draco and Desdemona had, for some reason, decided that pulling a prank on Halloween itself was over-rated, and had waited until the next night before trying to charm the ceiling of the Great Hall so that the clouds/stars/lightning/whatever else formed itself into rude words and phrases, clearly inspired by Weasleys Wildfire Whizbangs.

As the clearly unrepentant duo were escorted back to the Common Room by a very unamused Professor Sinistra (who had taken over as Head of Slytherin House) Roisin looked up from her Transfiguration Homework. "Care to explain what on earth was going through your head this time?"

Draco caught the irritated note at having her studies interrupted, but Desdemona had been immune to it for years. "Well, it was a two-part prank. The first part was getting attention by trying to Charm the Great Hall ceiling, even though we knew it probably wouldn't work, given how long those charms have been in place, which is why we didn't set up some kind of warning system."

Which, in itself, showed a surprising amount of forethought on the hyperactive girl's behalf, even if it did make Roisin momentarily question the seven years of friendship with both of them. "I see. Draco, do you want to tell me the rest?"

Draco didn't, but figured that he was already in trouble with the teachers, so he probably didn't want to be in trouble with his fellow Prefect. "Well, obviously we were going to be taken to the Headmaster's office for a chat. So, I got Ernie to plant the recording cluster that Pansy came up with for her OWL in the office beforehand, during the monthly Head Student meeting with the Headmaster, along with that Linking set you came up with, to transmit to a Vision Cluster in each of the Common Rooms."

Roisin had gone to bed early with a headache after a mishap with her NEWT Ancient Rune project, which explained why she had missed it. "Go on."

Draco was getting into the stride of things now, ignoring her obvious annoyance. "That's where the second part of the prank comes in. Do you realize that we've been at Hogwarts for seven years, and haven't once been sent to the Headmaster's office?"

Why not being sent to the Head's Office was a bad thing escaped Roisin. Desdemona correctly interpreted the raised eyebrow and delivered the punch-line. "It's just one of those things you have to do before leaving Hogwarts, and it was essential to pulling off the second part of a prank that will make us go down in Hogwarts History!"

Roisin didn't follow that logic, either, or why Desdemona expected the fame to last more than a few months, but Draco took heart from the fact that she had yet to reach for her wand, concluding the narrative. "Then, Dumbledore asked us if there was anything we wanted to tell him, and we demanded to know why he had yet to invite us to his office to talk, while Potter has practically had a standing appointment over the past six years."

If nothing else, that had taken guts. It had taken Unbelievably Stupid guts, but guts all the same. At least it explained why everyone had been giggling and coming up to congratulate the two all through breakfast before Professor Sinistra had dragged them away for Another Talk in her office, as she had been teaching a class when the two had been pulling off their Masterpiece.

Roisin closed her eyes and counted to twenty, before picking up her quill again. "Whatever. Just try to leave me out of these things, all right?"

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

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* * *

_A/N: OK, so the most I know about Law is one week of Jury Duty three years ago, bits and pieces of the TV show '__**Rizzoli and Isles' **__and what my Stepmother mentions in passing – not all of which is relevant, since she is studying Equestrian Law. As such, I would really appreciate people telling me the no doubt many places I went wrong._

_As an aside, I would also love an opinion on my new fic '__**Horsemen of Radbourne'.**__ Despite the name, it is more of a satirical one-shot written for a competition. Due to lack of suitable category, it is currently in the Bible classification. So far, it has several hits, and one PM shrieking about how it is completely inappropriate for anything relating to a Holy Book, and how I am going to hell for daring to make light of a divine work._

_Needless to say, not exactly a constructive comment._

_Back on topic: My original goal was to get a thousand reviews by the end of this story, but that was when I first started writing, and had a vastly over-inflated idea of my own popularity. There's still at least two thirds of a year to go, however, so I'll be happy to reach 800 a few months after finishing._

_On that topic, I have a question. _

_JKR wrote an epilogue, and while I've obviously blown that out of the water, I was toying with the idea of doing nineteen chapters, one for each year after Hogwarts. My question is: should I do a 'life after Hogwarts' section, and if so, should it be a separate fic?_

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	101. Chapter 101

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters. I wish I didn't have to insult everyone's intelligence by stating the obvious, but the site Mods insist._

_Summary: If you don't get it by now, you probably never will._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED**

"So, you and Cedric, huh?"

Lavender had masterfully managed to remain silent on the topic of Roisin and Cedric meeting at the Three Broomsticks, but Jia Li had thought it the most romantic thing ever, and wasted no time telling her cousin in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaws debated _everything_, so it wasn't long before they were discussing the implications of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff two years older. From there, the other Houses found out.

The DA knew that they had become friends, and could vouch for that, but everyone else insisted that they had never seen it coming. Roisin's Year Mates kept being indignant that she hadn't told them first. Ironically, Blaise was taking it the calmest.

The annoying part was that it was a sort of pre-date, rather than a proper date. Cedric might have had a long weekend, but that didn't mean that his workload was necessarily going to slow down anytime soon, and he was still little more than an intern until the end of the year. Likewise, NEWTs and Prefect duties were taking up a lot of time and energy, and while there were worse subjects to have chosen, none of Roisin's classes could be considered 'light options'.

At that particular moment in time, neither was in a good place for a proper relationship, and had decided to put it off until they graduated. Actually, Cedric and Roisin had dinner plans as soon as she finished her last NEWT. Until then, however, they were just two people who liked each other's company a lot.

Even if no-one else was willing to believe it.

Roisin looked up from fixing the rune cluster that had thrown Millicent across the Dorm a few months ago. "For the last time, we are no dating yet! We're both too busy for a relationship right now!"

Pansy pounced on the statement. "'Yet', she says! Do you know how weird that sound? Way too impersonal!"

Roisin shot her an icy look as Millicent backed her up. "They're going from 'just friends' to 'possibly more', and you remember how long it took Roisin and Blaise to get their acts together before they finally went out. If they want to take it slow until they can put their full time and concentration into a relationship, that's their choice."

Desdemona pouted. "Is that the argument you plan on using when you get to explain to your parents about your romantic choices?"

Millicent glared, drawing attention away from where Roisin was sneaking out of the Dorm and up to the Owlery with a letter for Cedric.

* * *

Having a History of Magic tutor who was not Binns was wonderful, as was the fact that they were finally learning more than Goblin Rebellions. They had started with a quiz to see how much the students actually knew (depressingly little), what they needed to learn (pretty much everything) and where would be a good place to start.

The universal response to '_where to start' _is always_ 'at the beginning'._ With at least two generations using History of Magic as a euphemism for 'nap time', a Ministry that was in shambles and its archives even moreso, and a lot of historical sources in private collections, it was difficult. Hermione was one of the few to have read _Hogwarts: a History_ and it was one of the few readily available History books outside of school texts.

In this light, and until he could get hold of better materials, (and fed up with declarations of "fancy not knowing that" from those who had a magical family history to study) the History of Magic Tutor had come up with an interesting solution.

The genealogy project was still much more trouble than it was worth, in Roisin's opinion, even if it was the best way to get a basic picture of history (it probably said something depressing about society that Pureblood families kept better records than the Official Historians), and a pointed reminder that nearly everyone had a squib, Muggle-born, half-blood or foreigner somewhere in their family tree.

Not everyone was over the 'Pureblood Supremacy' idea, after all, even if it was merely ingrained prejudice, rather than running around wearing white masks and a Dark Mark. It was, however, enthusiastically received, as nearly everyone who had been on the wrong end of that pureblood prejudice was perfectly willing to shove proof of equality (Greg and Vince were Roisin's friends, but 'superior' would never be a word generally used to describe them) in their faces.

Well, they were enthusiastic until they found out just how much work it was. Those who had Magical Ancestry were better off, as most purebloods kept family histories, but the further back your line went, the more research you had to do. Muggleborns got to have fun exploring their direct line to see if any of their ancestors might have been Squibs or even a witch or wizard. Luckily, they had the rest of the year to complete it, or they would have been doomed.

However, you couldn't deny that it was interesting.

Slughorn had actually been right, as Hermione's Great-Great-Uncle had been the stepbrother of Hector Dagworth-Granger, who had founded a Potions Society. Roisin had a feeling that Hermione's Christmas Holiday was going to involve a lot of research to see if any of those books from her distant relative had remained.

Ironically, Voldemort's mother had been a 'Gaunt', which suggested decent from a secondary or maternal line at some point, so unless everyone else of Slytherin decent was dead (possible, given the Dark Lord's tendency toward psychopathy), Voldemort had originally been simply '_an_ heir of Slytherin'.

No-one was above the hubris of wanting to claim that they were born of some great historical and/or legendary figure, so everyone had grabbed onto Voldemort's example, and was claiming bragging rights at being descended from someone famous. The only thing that kept it from spiralling totally out of control was that the enthusiasm was somewhat dampened by the fact that, after several centuries, so was nearly everyone.

There was a theory about that, though Roisin couldn't remember the exact name, which went along the lines of: "If someone has two children, and each of them has two children, then each of them has two children… a Century or so later, there will be around a hundred descendants." Most likely more, as the low survival rate of children under five until only a century or two ago tended to result in people having as many children as possible.

Harry was related to about half of Wizarding England through the Potter line, and Roisin's maternal Grandfather was one of six children. He had been born somewhere remote in America, and was apparently from a military family, as he had come over during a war, along with his four brothers. They were still trying to find out what had happened to the lone sister. His wife, Harry and Roisin's shared Grandmother, had been one of eight, but two had not married, one had been childless, one had only lived a few months, two had died in an accident as teenagers, and the last had some kind of falling out, so they had no idea about that branch.

Zacharias Smith had been right about being indirectly descended (read: bastard off-spring) to Helga Hufflepuff… along with half of Scotland. After bearing three children in wedlock before the death of her husband, Helga had not re-married, but had several more children through various lovers.

Harry was a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor, but then, so was a large portion of West England. Not all of Gryffindor's children were born on the right side of the sheets, to put it delicately. Apparently, both founders had believed in the ideal of 'many children equal at least a few surviving to adulthood'… and had better luck than most in that _all_ of their children did.

Rowena Ravenclaw had born eight daughters, the eldest of whom was still in Hogwarts as the Grey Lady, and those eight were ancestors to most of the magical population of Wales, though, as all of her offspring were female, none of Ravenclaw's grandchildren carried on her name. Roisin and Luna had a good laugh over the fact that the quirky blonde was, as Roisin had occasionally teased her, the Great-Granddaughter of a Great-Granddaughter of a Changeling.

Voldemort had claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin, though the title had actually belonged to his uncle Morfin until Voldemort killed him after leaving Hogwarts. As Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, (and Voldemort's part of the line had obviously passed through a daughter at some point, resulting in the name-change to 'Gaunt') Roisin was willing to bet he had achieved it in truth by tracking down and killing any other potential heirs.

The O'Conner clan, as it turned out, had an ancestor in Connla, the offspring of Cuchulainn and Aoife the Sorceress. However, as said Irish hero was not exactly a faithful husband, despite having Emer as his wife, and though Connla was the only offspring documented outside of family trees, most of Northern Ireland was related to Cuchulainn.

* * *

Regardless of how interesting History now was, however, Roisin was feverently grateful that she had dropped five of her subjects. Arithmancy had been fun, but hard, and she didn't think that she would have been able to handle it at NEWT level, especially with all of the other work. The fact that Blaise, who had become very good once he got the hang of complex calculations, staggered into the Common Room and collapsed after almost every lesson (someone had been smart enough to schedule Seventh-Year Arithmancy as the last class of the day) convinced her that she had made the right choice.

As it was, Ancient Runes and Transfiguration alone were enough to thank every god she knew of for all the free periods. Without those, the workload would have forced her to learn to function on five hours of sleep, with all the Homework.

There was one slight perk, however. The current batch of First Years, particularly (and ironically) the Ravenclaws, were convinced that their workload was too large and unreasonable, and the older year couldn't possibly understand the suffering that they were going through trying to keep up. Showing off her own workload and assuring them that it was only going to get worse wasn't very nice, but it did make her feel a bit better.

Desdemona was a bit less diplomatic when she told them to go away, suck it up and stop whining.

* * *

Even so, Seventh-Year was proving a lot quieter than previous years, and other than the first Quidditch Match of the year (Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, as usual.) which Roisin had avoided, November finally left, its sleet and gale-force winds giving way to the snow of December.

Christmas was descending on England, and soon, so would the plane carrying Roisin's family.

Seeing Roisin's ecstatic happy-dance when she received a letter giving the date that her family was returning home, Millicent had offered to go with her to pick them up. They arrived the evening of the end of Term, which meant that Roisin and Millicent could leave straight after classes, and since Dean had mentioned introducing Millicent to his family at the platform, she wanted a last-minute bit of Muggle-Exposure so she could make a good impression.

Flooing from the Three Broomsticks to the Leaky Cauldron, and catching a cab from there, resulted in the two girls now standing at the gates of Heathrow Airport, ignoring the strange looks drawn by her friend bouncing around in anticipation. "Roisin, seriously, you're acting like Desdemona. Will you please - ,"

The rest of whatever she was going to say was cut off as Roisin let out a squeal and ran toward a tall, thin woman and two bulky men. "Mum, Dad, Dudley!"

The three engulfed her in a hug as Millicent tried to work out where Roisin inherited what. The dark hair was obviously from her father, just as the slender build was clearly her mother. Mr Dursley wore a very expensive business suit, which suggested that Roisin's ambition and determined attitude might come from there. But, Millicent didn't know the family, so she could be entirely wrong. The indifference to sports was explained by the fact that Roisin's brother, with the build and movements of a boxer, had clearly inherited all of those genes and then some.

Said brother finally let go of his twin and walked over to her companion, holding out a hand. Millicent took it as she looked up at Roisin's obviously fraternal brother, enjoying the novelty of standing next to someone taller than her. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was Desdemona under Polyjuice. You're Dudley, right?"

Dudley nodded, clearly debating with himself on whether or not to ask what 'Polyjuice' was. "Desdemona's the scarily hyper one, right? Yeah, I'm Dudley. Sorry, but I don't know which friend you are."

Millie grinned. "My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Millicent Bulstrode; your sister and I share a dorm."

Finally prying herself away from her parents, Roisin darted over. "Let's get over to a corner and you two can be a living blockade while I shrink the luggage. There's no way we can get all of this on the subway."

They were about to leave when a young voice piped up across the noise of the airport. "Roisin, Roisin! Over here!"

Roisin resisted the urge to groan. She was very fond of her former First-Years, but there was only so much of an excited Jacob (who had left a day before term ended, as his family had plans that couldn't be put back to accommodate the Hogwarts timetable) that she could take at one time. Looking to the source of the noise, Petunia raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason we have a young boy racing toward us?"

Roisin sighed. "He was one of my First-Years when I was made Prefect. They latched on and still haven't let go."

Millicent snickered. "It's your own fault for letting them know about rune-charms last year. You're just lucky that they couldn't get their hands on your notes about rune-clusters."

Her friend was not helping. "We are even luckier that we graduate before they start learning those in class. You'd think that blowing up cauldrons during Potions class would be enough for them."

Jacob caught up before she could make a getaway, dragging two adults and a younger girl with him. From the indulgent expressions and physical similarities, they were probably his family. "Hi Prefect-Mummy! I didn't know you were going away over the holidays, too."

Roisin closed her eyes and offered a prayer for patience. "What did I tell you all about calling me that? I'm not going away, but I'm picking up my family."

Jacob tilted his head. "You threatened Richard with a House-wide notice explaining about Batman and Robin for coming up with the name in the first place, and to put the rest of us in detention every Hogsmeade weekend for the rest of the year. You also promised a rune-cluster to turn us some hideous colour if we tried to use it in front of other people. You wouldn't do that to me though, would you?"

Jacob's mother muffled a laugh as Roisin narrowed her eyes. "Don't be so sure. Anyway, this is my twin brother, Dudley, and my parents, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Everyone, this is Jacob Stewart, a Third-Year from school. We're in the same House, so he wound up in my care as a Prefect. Apparently, they adopted me as a collective older sister."

Roisin's father nodded. "Yes, you've mentioned them." He shook hands with Jacob's father. "Good to meet you, but we have to get going. Look us up sometime when you get back."

Roisin decided to take that as a good sign that her family was getting closer to being comfortable with her using Magic (or at least, comfortable socializing with people in similar situations to them, as in having a magical child) and led the way to the exit, only to stop dead as Jacob shouted after her again. "Oh, and Jia Li threatened our Christmas presents if we didn't apologize for interrupting your date in November! I'm sorry for disturbing the two of you when you were busy!"

Predictably, a large portion of those in hearing range (Many, since at least one flight had just landed) instantly turned to stare.

Roisin who hadn't mentioned the Hogsmeade date, since it had actually been a bit more of a pre-dating date, a promise until they could go out on a proper date, shrunk in on herself and wondered how much trouble she would get in for casting a Disillusionment Charm.

Petunia raised an eyebrow at her blushing daughter and exchanged glances with her husband, silently questioning how much of the sentence had just been bad phrasing.

Dudley and Millicent burst out laughing.

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_A/N: Before people start complaining about the History Project; JKR herself stated in an interview that all Muggleborns had a Squib or Magical ancestor. Yell at her before you yell at me._

_OK, I've been stuck in bed with Tonsillitis and the first ear infection I've had since the age of three. Fortunately, I can express myself better and attempt to make my own hot compress, so Mum was woken up at five a.m. by a phone call, rather than twin toddlers screaming at two a.m. and joined by the infant sister that they just woke up. Luckily, she had an onion (I hate them, so the closest you'll find in my apartment is shallots) and remembered the recipe for soothing an ear-ache, and had a reclining chair for me to nap in because lying down only makes things worse, even if the suffering daughter has only had two hours sleep._

_Anyway, you'd think I would have had more time to write, but no._

_Sorry it's late, but I hope to have the next chapter up on time. Meanwhile, there are over a hundred other fics for you to read on my profile._


	102. Chapter 102

_Disclaimer: OK, you know what? I'm not going to say it, and if the Moderators complain, they can slog through the disclaimers in the last one hundred and one chapters. Unless someone skipped right to the last chapter by accident, there is no way they could have missed the fact that I don't own Harry Potter._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ONE**

Roisin wasn't sure how every thirteen-year-old on the planet managed to acquire such a gift for making something totally innocent sound totally suggestive, and at the worst possible moment.

Either way, it was sure to make for a very uncomfortable conversation, most likely the instant a snickering Millicent found somewhere concealed enough to Apparate away.

To her surprise, her parents held out until they were sitting down to a very nice steak and kidney pie with salad and vegetables that Winky had made. Roisin's mother took a sip of water. "Now, dear, I know that you are of legal age in the M-Magical world, and it's only a few months until you turn eighteen, but is there anything you need to tell us?"

Roisin barely managed to not choke on a baby carrot. "Um, thirteen year old boys can turn a question about what's for dinner into a sexual innuendo?"

From the pained look on her father's face, she probably could have phrased that better. "It's not that we don't like the boy; I agree that he's an impressive young man, and I know that a number of young people your age can be… curious. Your mother and I just don't want you to let peer pressure make you rush into anything."

Dudley, who remembered the verbal screw-ups of thirteen-year-old boys a bit better than his parents did, took pity on his mortified twin. "Mum, Dad, they weren't even properly dating the last time we met Cedric, and he promised that he'd treat her right. Even if they are dating, he didn't seem like the kind of bloke who thinks with his…" Dudley caught the look on his mother's face and quickly switched his choice of words, "…hormones."

Roisin shot him a look of profound gratitude. "He isn't, and we still aren't dating. We were the only singles in a group of couples, Jia Li jumped to romantic conclusions, and Jacob just said it wrong. It's totally innocent, I swear."

Petunia instantly changed her position, fast enough to nearly give her daughter whiplash. "Why not? You would make a very nice couple, and you looked to be getting along well over the Summer. Is something wrong?"

Roisin would give nearly anything to get out of this conversation. "Look, I'm lucky to get an hour to myself in a week, with NEWTs and Prefect stuff, and Cedric still has a month left on his Work Trial. Neither of us has the time to give a romantic relationship the attention it deserves, so we're waiting until I finish school and he becomes a paid employee. Our first date is planned for the Saturday after I graduate. _Please_ can we drop this line of questioning?"

She wasn't naïve enough to think that the subject wouldn't re-surface at some point, but for now, Roisin's family was willing to switch to other topics, such as Dudley having to take a placement test over the holidays, to determine which classes he should be in, as he was returning three months into the school year.

* * *

Roisin had paid attention to the correspondence with her family over the past year, especially to the parts where they talked about what they had missed the most.

Roisin's mother had missed her friends and what one of Roisin's old friends Lorna referred to as the "Stitch-and-Bitch Circle" and more literal-minded (and politer) residents called "Bring-A-Hobby-And-Settle-In-For-Hours-Of-Gossip". Having spent the majority of the summer holidays preparing to move back, Petunia had very little time for social calls. Roisin's early Christmas gift to her mother had been to plan a 'Welcome-Back-Tea-Party' a few days on December 21st, just before everyone started rushing around with Christmas preparations. It had been much harder than organizing a study group for the younger years, especially to keep the whole thing a surprise, but the joy on her mother's face was worth it.

Roisin's father had missed England, period, and especially proper English food, as opposed to "that fancy foreign rubbish". The Galleon-to-Pound exchange rate had been very good (seven GBP to a Galleon) so Roisin had been able to afford a weekend bus tour of Surry, including a dinner at a nice restaurant. It might have seemed strange to take a tour of the County that you lived and grew up in, but it was a good way to reconnect, and there was always some interesting fact that you hadn't known until the Tour Guide pointed it out.

Dudley had missed Boxing and his friends, but since he was back on the Smeltings Boxing Team, there really wasn't much that Roisin could do about that, other than two tickets to a professional boxing match two days before he returned to Hogwarts.

Her family's gifts to Roisin were just as wonderful. Somewhere along the line, they had found a fancy antique stationary shop and bought her a large set of metal quill-tips, along with an assortment of coloured quills. With the amount of Homework essays the NEWT students had, the idea of quills that she _didn't_ have to stop and mend every half hour while still trying to keep her train of thought was a very, very welcome one.

Hopefully she would be able to bring one into the NEWT exams. She had heard the previous batch of Seventh-Years complaining about forgetting to bring a pen-knife and being marked down for messy writing.

* * *

Roisin strongly suspected that Seamus was behind the Theatre Outing over Christmas, as an entire box had been booked for a new show called '_Riverdance'_, which seemed to be based on Irish history from the point of view of the Muggle World, from their roots, shrouded in mystery and legend, to the American Migration after the Potato Famine.

Hermione had bowed out, as she was already having dinner with Anthony's parents that night, as had Dean and Millicent, for the same reason. Draco was also out, as he and Narcissa were visiting Lucius. They were replaced by Ron, who was taking Sally-Anne Perks on a first date, along with Padma, who had nothing else to do, and Dudley to make up the numbers and Roisin's parents, to act as chaperones.

The rest of the group were more or less the same as when they saw _Phantom of the Opera_, with Harry and Parvati, Lavender and Seamus, and Cedric. Cedric was especially pleased at the opportunity, as he had apparently been told to 'Stop hiding and take it like a man', and was therefore stuck attending the Ministry Ball this Christmas, rather than visiting Roisin.

He was a bit confused at the measuring glances from Petunia, Vernon and Dudley, but managed not to laugh too loudly when Roisin explained while they were getting snacks during the intermission.

It was still a very enjoyable evening, and Roisin's family did a very good job of hiding their tension and trying to relax around so many magical people. They even managed not to sigh in exasperation when Seamus tried to dance his way to the pub afterward (He wasn't that bad a dancer, but Lavender stopped him by linking arms and refusing to move from her more sedate pace) and when Roisin's feet wouldn't stop tapping '_Women of the Sidhe'_.

Harry even managed a cordial farewell before he and the Patil twins Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, so all in all, Roisin counted it as a very good night.

* * *

All too soon, it was time to return to Hogwarts, and Roisin found herself on Platform nine and three-quarters, looking around to spot her friends. Turning around, she almost ran into Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you."

The Trio waved it off, but Ginny just mumbled something about it being fine and walked away, looking very depressed. Roisin blinked in surprise, having become used to sassy comments from the redhead, far more frequently than mumbled replies and averted gazes. She leaned over to Harry, "What's with her?"

Harry winced. "Bill caught her calling Fleur 'Phlegm' and mocking his fiancée behind her back. There was a huge row, and Bill said that if she did anything like it again, or if Mrs Weasley didn't at least try to stop her, Gabrielle would be the only bridesmaid and they would have the wedding in France. Bill was Ginny's favourite sibling, apparently, so it hit her kind of hard."

Wow. No-one had really done anything to try and stop Ginny's name-calling and mocking, so her brother getting angry and calling her on it would have been a bit of a shock.

It made sense, though. Fleur probably hadn't mentioned the names and impersonations to Bill, as she had been genuinely trying to get along with her future in-laws, and Mrs Weasley had apparently been a lot nicer since the showdown in the Hospital Wing. But no matter how much he loved his mother and sister, Bill wouldn't have tolerated them making his future wife miserable.

* * *

This was confirmed two days later, as Roisin was on her way to the dungeons after the last class of the day, planning which assignment to start on first, and trying to decide if it was really worth sitting Jacob down for a chat about tact and things that you didn't say in front of parents. Her thoughts were interrupted when she nearly tripped over a schoolbag, which turned out to belong to Ginny Weasley, who was sitting in an alcove looking thoroughly miserable.

Roisin knew that she was going to regret asking, but it was the decent thing to do, so she went ahead. "Are you all right? Do I need to get one of your Housemates?"

The look in Ginny's eyes was that of a lost child, someone who had just been told something to turn their world upside down. Roisin cynically wondered if Ginny's latest boyfriend had dumped her before she could come up with an excuse to dump him after the relationship failed to catch Harry's attention, and started desperately looking for an escape route. Ginny did not miss this fact and looked ready to burst into a fresh wave of tears.

Cursing the various students who had managed to turn her into some kind of unofficial councillor while listening to their assorted woes and dramas over the seven years at Hogwarts, and wishing that she were anywhere else, Roisin sat down. "All right, what's wrong?"

Ginny sniffed. "They all hate me."

Roisin could think of several people covered by that statement, most of whom had reasons in various degrees of justifiability. She conjured a handkerchief before Ginny was forced to wipe her nose on her hand or someone's robes. "Would you care to elaborate? Who hates you?"

Ginny took it. "Everyone. I saw Dean and Michael in Diagon Alley when I was visiting the twins at their shop during the Holidays, and thought I'd go say hello, but they walked away when they saw me coming, and they looked a lot happier with their new girlfriends than they ever did with me."

Before Hermione had told her about it, Roisin hadn't even known that Ginny and Michael were dating, as they never seemed to spend any time together, and from what she had heard from Millicent, Ginny had mistaken Dean's respect toward girls for treating her as weak and broke up with him, only to practically glomp Harry a few weeks later. While Dean had been upset, he hadn't been willing to take her back when Parvati hexed the red-head away from her boyfriend. Maybe Ginny's previous boyfriends had been happy while dating her and it was just an issue of compatibility, but Roisin couldn't really say.

That was three or four out of several potential 'they' down, as Millicent was largely indifferent, and Cho didn't care aside from thinking that Ginny needed to 'get over herself and stop acting like a spoiled toddler'.

None of that would have been very comforting, however, so she remained silent as Ginny continued. "Then I met some of the Hufflepuffs in Charms earlier today, and they said that my loyalty might not be worth the breath used to state it, but theirs was a lot more substantial. The war was over, and since they weren't walking on eggshells in case Harry realized that he had every right to walk away and leave them to You-Know-Who, after the way they had treated him, I wasn't going to get away with attacking them anymore just because I was related to his best friend."

Well, everyone had known that hexing Smith and deliberately smashing into the commentator's podium was going to have consequences, as far as the Hufflepuffs were concerned. While Roisin was all for Ginny finally being held accountable for those actions, she did feel a certain amount of sympathy that it had all come crashing down at once, and it seemed that, with her family spending so long shielding her from consequences, the girl had actually been largely unaware of the impacts she had caused.

Again, she said nothing, and Ginny finally dried her eyes. "What do I do?"

Why was Ginny asking Roisin, who had been obvious in her distain of the girl more than once? Still, as apparently one of the few people willing to talk to her right now, Roisin had better come up with something unless she wanted the younger girl to latch onto her as a refuge. "An apology is always a good start, especially if you actually mean it. Beyond that, it's up to you. Some might be willing to forgive, some might not, but you'll never know until you try."

Ginny pulled herself together, gaining a resolved look to her face and stance as she nodded. Everyone had a changing point somewhere in their adolescence, and maybe this was Ginny's. "That's true, I suppose. I guess I really will have to move on from Harry, this time. Thanks for listening, Roisin."

Roisin nodded in reply, not wanting to ruin even this small amount of progress by accidentally saying the wrong thing, and the two girls separated, Ginny to find various people, and Roisin back to the Dungeons.

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_A/N: Before anyone starts complaining, let me explain._

_Since Order of the Phoenix, Ginny reminded me a lot of a girl I knew from my own days in school. She started off as a loner, and while she eventually made friends, she was still a wallflower. One day, she was catapulted into the spotlight, and turned into someone else completely. When someone is put in a new position, the first reaction is to learn the limits, but no-one was willing to enforce any. Unfortunately, Lockhart did get one thing right when he claimed that '__fame is a fickle friend'__. The girl in question was eventually replaced by a new rising star, and discovered that the Populars were no longer interested, and her former friends didn't want her around after the way she had brushed them off to be with the 'In-crowd'._

_Ginny is lonely and withdrawn during her First Year, and while JKR claims that she made friends after, we don't actually see Ginny more than a handful of times. In Order of the Phoenix, Ginny is suddenly in the spotlight, with everyone laughing at her jokes and agreeing with whatever she says. It only increases in Half-Blood Prince, where even the Slytherins are saying how pretty and popular she is, Slughorn invites her to his club for hexing Smith, and she gets off with a light scolding for crashing the Commentator's Tower, but no punishment that we see. Hufflepuffs are loyal and fair team players, and I don't think that they'd like that. I have seen couples break up over whose sport team won the cup, but from what little we saw, Ginny didn't seem to treat her boyfriends that well, from my POV. I've mentioned my opinion about her treatment of Fleur before, but since Fleur didn't blow up about it until the Hospital Wing when Molly all but stated that she didn't think Fleur would still marry Bill now that he was scarred, I think that no-one mentioned it to him._

_Ginny rose fast and high, but now the consequences are all hitting at once. Bill isn't happy about how his mother and sister were so against his fiancée, and says to either play nice, or not at all. The Hufflepuffs have the chance to express their displeasure at her treatment of Smith. Her ex-Boyfriends, while they may have been happy while dating Ginny, are currently with people more compatible than she was. That isn't a slight against Ginny (my parents were happy, but they are happier with their respective new partners), but on top of everything else it hits Ginny hard. She is not quite sixteen, the only girl in her family and still going through the phase where everything is changing and you're trying to figure out who you are. In my experience you keep going as steady as you can during that phase, then hit a point where you start making your own changes and trying to build a future._

_For me, it was being told that my mild autism and inability to write essays meant that I probably wouldn't pass my HSC, so I should drop out after my SC and get an apprenticeship or such. After spending the weekend crying, I admitted that my career advisor had a point, and started looking. Ginny's "point" is when she realizes that her behaviour while part of the Popular Crowd wasn't as acceptable as she had thought and that her dreams of Harry are just that. Now, she can start to really look at what she wants out of life and start to work toward it._

_As always, you are free to disagree with my interpretation, and I'd love to hear any rebuttal on the topic._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	103. Chapter 103

_Disclaimer: As with last chapter, if you haven't realized by now that I don't own Harry Potter, there is no point in me repeating it._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO**

In Fifth-Year, Roisin had been to a Career Advice session that had lasted all of five minutes, where she had mentioned her goal of being a teacher. Earlier this school year, someone had suggested that one of the current Seventh-Years take over as a new History of Magic Professor.

Roisin had given it some thought, but apparently so had several Seventh-Year Ravenclaws, who, Roisin could admit, would make better teachers than she would. Besides, if someone else wanted to sacrifice themselves to a subject that Roisin didn't even like, that was fine with her. It didn't mean that she had completely given up, however.

Besides, she was far from the only one worrying over what would happen when they graduated from Hogwarts, a date that suddenly seemed to be approaching much faster than it had seemed only a few weeks ago.

Most of the Muggle-Born and Half-Blood students were looking into getting a Certificate of Attainment in the Muggle World, just in case anyone came asking questions about why there was no record of them in the Education System, but beyond that, it was a bit up in the air.

The Government and Business seminars were filled with people who were fed up with having a useless Ministry of Magic and had long-term plans to change that, or who wanted to fill the spaces left by business owners who had fled during the War.

Millicent was delighted to announce that she had been accepted as Madam Pomfrey's apprentice, joining the ranks of those who planned further study, and also the very thin ranks of those who had a concrete idea of what they would be doing.

Even the younger years were in a minor uproar, with the announcement of a Creative Arts program. Those currently in Second Year had the option to take it as one of the electives, and there would be a series of open seminars for the other years, and there was a surprising amount of enthusiasm. The new course of study had passed through the Board of Governors, most of whom seemed sceptical that anyone would even care. The Governors had quickly been proved wrong by a near flood of students practically bursting for the chance to fine-tune their gifts in music, tapestry, painting, singing and more.

Artists without a day job tended to struggle financially, so when Cedric wrote to Fleur, having found out that Beauxbatons had an extensive Arts Program, and Fleur wrote to several old friends and former tutors about the seminars for Creative Arts that Hogwarts had hoped to implement, applications poured in.

Dean Thomas was among the especially pleased that Roisin knew. He would have graduated by the time the new course was actually implemented, but he was happy to be able to get in touch with potential tutors, and had been talking to one of the applicants about fees, course structure, materials and so on. It was well-known that Dean was excellent with drawing and painting, and was already creating a portfolio to try and convince someone to accept him as a student.

If all else failed, he planned to take a correspondence course in Magical Arts and study the legwork in the Muggle World.

* * *

Roisin's Third Years were also a bit jumpy, as they were about to reach the end of their chance to change electives. It was rare, but it did happen, though a changed elective had to be confirmed by two weeks after the Christmas Holidays, at the latest, and the student in question would have to be willing to catch up on everything they had missed. Now the option of changing electives was actually being used, and the news of a Creative Arts Class was playing merry havoc on elective schedules.

Lisbeth wasn't going to drop Arithmancy, as she felt that her main strength lay in solving puzzles, but was unsure whether to drop Government and Business, or Ancient Runes, in favour of Music. Roisin was willing to bet on a percussion instrument. Draco advised her to keep Government and Business, as those areas always had plenty of use for someone who could solve puzzles.

Richard was one of the dwindling few to take Care of Magical Creatures, almost entirely because every single other student had unanimously advised him not to, and was likely to become the only one in his class by the end of the year. His other choice was Ancient Runes, based on the discovery of Rune Clusters that could blow things up. He didn't have a problem either way, as he planned on taking a Creative Arts seminar, and not worrying about it until then.

Jia Li and Sienna had both taken Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes, and had given an impromptu concert with sitar and hujia when asked what Creative art they planned on taking. They had received a standing ovation from Roisin and the rest of their Year-mates, as well as slightly stifled applause from everyone crammed into the hallway outside, trying to listen in.

Jacob was perfectly happy with Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Divination ("Just to keep Trelawney in business. Besides, Divination homework is creative arts in itself". It was true, but hadn't stopped Roisin from delivering a mini-lecture on the Importance of Taking Homework Seriously) and didn't want to change, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Quiet little Lucinda dropped Arithmancy in favour of Tapestry and Weaving, but continued with Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes. Roisin thought that it suited her. Of all the First-Years that had been originally put under her care two years ago, Lucinda was one that she had originally pegged as being destined for Hufflepuff. She was steadfast and patient, two qualities that she would need with Weaving of any kind.

David had taken Care of Magical Creatures and Divination to keep his friends company, along with Ancient Runes, but was happy to leave Jacob to his fate in favour of Painting. Jacob had pouted for a few minutes, but conceded the point when David said that Richard would need someone to help him to the Hospital Wing after class.

Again, the Creative Arts classes wouldn't actually take place until next year, but those students entering Fourth- and Fifth-Year would need the rest of the year – and probably part of summer – to study and catch up on the basics.

* * *

Roisin had originally wanted to be a teacher when she graduated, but with someone else willing to take History of Magic, and Professor Burbage showing no inclination toward retirement, she was modifying the idea somewhat. Voldemort and the Death Eaters might be gone, but it was already becoming clear that if any much-needed changes were going to be made, it wouldn't be by the Ministry. At least until some of her current schoolmates worked their way up.

Right now, it just wasn't practical to reveal the Wizarding World to the Muggle World, but a slow integration or information network for Muggle-Born students, rather than throwing them into the deep end when they turned eleven, would do a lot to lower the frequent 'Cultural Misunderstandings' that Voldemort had used to rise to power.

Taking advantage of the brief respite between homework loads, she was working on a vague plan for opening a small school of her own. Not for a few years, after she got her teaching certification and some kind of administration certificate, but one day. Struggling with an outline for the argument that would no doubt spring up when she applied for funding, Roisin looked up as Draco somehow managed to elegantly flop down next to her. "What are you doing?"

Roisin grabbed for the inkwell before it could spill over her parchment. "Just a plan for the future. Tell me, what is the main argument for why Muggleborns shouldn't be allowed?"

Draco looked confused for a moment. "Er… the worry that they'll expose the Wizarding world and their disrespect and ignorance of the old Traditions? People get annoyed when people keep saying that Purebloods in particular and the Wizarding World as a whole are barbaric and out-dated?"

Well, some of the customs certainly were out-dated, and some equality laws could certainly do a lot of good, but no-one liked being called on the flaws of their society, whether it was true or not. Even so, most traditions and customs had a reason behind them, and there were certain Muggle Laws that didn't make sense. Such as the fact that it was still legal for an Englishman to kill a Scots- or Welshman… as long as it was after dark, with a bow and arrow.

Roisin had been very lucky in that she had family and friends to teach her the traditions, but very few others were so fortunate. Worse, there were very few books on the subject, as everyone seemed to think that everyone would automatically know the customs, purely because magic flowed through their veins. "Exactly. The loudest argument in opposition to that sentiment is that the Muggleborns had no-one to teach them, so we should be more tolerant."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Yes. Father actually tried to introduce a Wizard Studies class as a counter to Muggle Studies, but the Headmaster kept shutting him down, saying that we should be open to the new ideas that Muggleborns bring, and that it was a waste of resources. Father even agreed that Dumbledore had a point in theory, but that didn't mean that a Magical Studies class wasn't a good idea that should be implemented."

Argh, bloody Dumbledore. He might have thought he was acting for the Greater Good, Advancement of Wizardkind and Overall Tolerance, but there were a large number of people who strongly disagreed, which had earned him a number of unkind names when people thought that no-one was listening. Yes, of course there were areas where the Wizarding World could use improvement, but that didn't mean throwing everything out of the window.

SPEW was a prime example. There were some families who mistreated their House-Elves, but Elves and Wizards shared a symbiotic relationship. House-Elves needed a family, and suddenly freeing a race that had no idea what to do with freedom, without the faintest idea of what to do next, was a disaster waiting to happen.

Most of Voldemort's Inner Circle had followed him out of the genuine belief that Muggles and Muggleborn were inferior, but a surprising number of his lesser followers had joined in the mistaken belief that Voldemort would stop their traditions from being contested at every turn. Even the quiet rituals on the Solstices and Equinoxes drew one or two grumblings about Pagans and how 'everyone' knew it was stupid.

Muggleborn herself, Roisin was aware of how Hypocritical she would sound in actually voicing her thoughts. On the other hand, she had worked hard to learn about Wizarding traditions and to integrate herself into the Magical World. It was similar to moving to a foreign country: there were different customs; different laws, different mannerisms, and being different didn't necessarily make them wrong. You might not understand why things were the way they were, but that didn't make you entitled to run around acting like your way was the only way. Look at a proper history book and see how well _that _worked out.

Again, the main problem was a lack of communication. Muggleborn students didn't have anyone to explain things to them, and no reason to think to ask beforehand. Wizard-born students took offence at having their traditions questioned, and didn't stop to look at it from both sides before stalking off to complain to their friends about Muggleborns who 'just didn't get it'.

Lucius Malfoy was of the sincere belief that Muggles were inferior, but he was also of the sincere belief that anyone who didn't share the name Malfoy was inferior. It was the same attitude that Greg mentioned had seen Draco beaten up a lot in pre-Hogwarts school, before he and Vince had attached themselves to him.

Roisin indicated her parchment. "Children start showing magic at four to seven years of age, right? Blaise's father taught at a Primary School for Purebloods and Half-Bloods. Unfortunately, between the first signs of magic and the point when they receive their Hogwarts letters, the Muggleborn children have no idea what is going on, and usually experience a lot of isolation when people get scared of strange things happening. I thought of starting a school for Muggleborns that started before Hogwarts. We go to visit Muggleborns when they show their first definite signs of magic and teach them how the Wizarding World works, plus the other things that Wizard-born children learn at the magical primary schools."

Draco blinked. "So not only do they get an introduction and an idea of what they're coming into, but also grounding in the fundamentals, so that we all start on the same level. Father says that there is always at least one Ravenclaw Alumina who complains that they were held back in order to keep everyone at the same level. That might actually work. How were you planning to do it?"

Roisin hadn't expected actual interest, but continued the explanation. "You know how the company who were re-building Hogsmeade went a bit crazy and decided to build a few more wizard villages while they were at it? And then the one that was rebuilding Diagon Alley started feeling competitive? Well, it shouldn't take much to add a school or two, as well. I'll need to get a teaching certification, and funding, and get the Ministry to recognize it, and come up with a way to identify when a future student shows signs of magic, so it will probably take at least a few years to set up, but being surrounded by Magical society will do even more to integrate Muggleborns than any classroom."

Draco nodded. "I'll talk to Father next time I visit, or when he gets out over Easter Holidays. If I present it as you being inspired by his idea of Wizard Studies and a new school being the only way you could get around Dumbledore, I think I can get his support, especially since we're trying to put up a tolerant front. I'll have a word with some of the others in my Government class, and we can start working on a proposal."

It was Roisin's turn to blink. "Don't think that I'm not happy for your support, but you are probably the last person I expected it from."

Draco frowned at her. "I still believe in Pureblood superiority, but the war with Voldemort showed that there are much better ways to preserve our society than killing everyone who doesn't agree with or is ignorant of it."

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: OK, I know some people are going to disagree with Roisin and Draco's conversation, but it isn't entirely different from going on a Student Exchange Program. You're learning the same things, but you have to get used to a different culture. I freely admit to being a non-Christian (non-practising Pastafarian, formerly Agnostic, actually) who went to a Catholic School and tried not to doze off during Chapel and mandatory Scripture. I also know how much that annoyed those of my classmates who were Christian. Scripture was only mandatory for the first two years, but it did give me a solid grounding to defend my religious positions._

_Legally being allowed to kill someone is true, by the way. __In 1098 A.D. a law was passed in Chester that killing a Welshman did not count as murder, as long as it was after dark and with a crossbow. This law was only repealed in 1998, on its 900__th__ Anniversary._

_Similar laws have not been repealed, such as:_

_It is illegal for a member of Parliament to enter the House of Commons wearing a full suit of armour _

_In York, upon sight of a Scotsman with the city walls after dark, it is still legal to shoot him with a bow and arrow_

_In Hereford, you can shoot a Welsh person all day in the Cathedral Close, but only on Sunday with a longbow_

_No, their continued existence doesn't make sense to me, either._

_I welcome any arguments._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	104. Chapter 104

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters_

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THREE**

Roisin had been pleasantly surprised to be invited to Bill and Fleur's wedding, though she wished that she hadn't agreed to come three days in advance. Besides being dragged into helping clean the Burrow and set everything up, she was stuck soothing Winky's hurt feelings at not being allowed to help, and rooming with Ginny, who was still upset that Harry had invited Parvati as his date, and Hermione, which made for a very cramped room.

Still, Fleur's happiness was infectious, and a wedding was an especially happy event while everyone was still recovering from the war.

* * *

After a few days of helping with wedding preparations, Roisin was not so happy, and was in fact perilously close to scripting a speech for the future, where she explained to her mother why she was eloping.

Non-stop cutlery-cleaning, silver-polishing, matching favours and flowers by colour, de-gnoming the garden, and running interference when Winky and Dobby tried to offer to help and were refused by Mrs Weasley, was very tiresome, and Roisin had barely been able to exchange so much as a 'hello' with anyone else since she had arrived.

It didn't stop at bed-time, either, as Roisin was sharing a room with Hermione and Ginny, and the maniquin holding Ginny's bridesmaid dress, which made the room cramped enough that you couldn't turn over without rolling onto someone and waking them up.

Add into that the inevitable clash of opinions between Mother-In-Laws when the Delacours arrived, and everyone was a bit stressed.

* * *

Gabrielle had grown from the wet and bedraggled nine-year-old that Roisin had seen Harry rescuing from the lake during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament, but her resulting crush on Harry was clearly as strong as ever. It wasn't too bad, more akin to Hero-worship than crush, but the attention still made Harry squirm.

Fleur's mother was tall and beautiful, clad in leaf-green robes, her Veela heritage even more pronounced than her daughters. By contrast, Fleur's father was a head shorter than his wife, plump and good-natured, with a pointed black beard.

Monsieur kissed Mrs Weasley on both cheeks as Fleur ran to embrace Madame Delacour. "You 'ave been to much trouble. Fleur tells us you 'ave all been working very 'ard."

Mrs Weasley looked unusually flustered at the compliment. "Oh, it's been nothing. No trouble at all!"

Ron was unusually discreet as he disagreed with his mother's words by aiming a vengeful kick at a gnome who was peering out from behind one of the new Flutterby bushes. In a rare occasion, Roisin had to agree with him.

On the bright side, the Delacours were helpful guests, and Madame Delacour was surprisingly adept with Household Charms, which cut down on the works, since Mrs Weasley could hardly order _her _to not use her wand to help clean.

* * *

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright, and instantly turned into a flurry of preparations.

Fleur and Bill were both suffering an attack of Wedding Nerves, and insisted that their family were only trying to sooth them because they were family, which meant that Roisin and Harry had to be dragged in to inform the soon-to-be Happy Couple to calm down and pull themselves together.

Madame Delacour nearly transformed when she discovered that the people delivering the wedding gown had managed to rip a hem and missed a large stain right on the bodice. Parvati, who had arrived early, managed to fix it easily, before rushing off to help everyone not in the bridal party with hair and make-up, as Roisin and Hermione had seldom seen the need for either, barring the Yule Ball three years ago.

The band had lost the directions and took a wrong turn, and then been stuck in traffic on the way back to somewhere with a floo-port, but still barely managed to turn up on time, but Mr Weasley had barely stepped away from the fireplace before it flared green with the Caterers, who wanted to double-check if they had ordered lemon something-that-boiled-down-to-a-mini-tart, or berry, or custard, or a mix of all three.

Ginny and Gabrielle's bridesmaid dresses had somehow become wrinkled overnight, and with Mrs Weasley and Madame Delacour running around, Parvati had to be called back half-way through taming Hermione's hair to fix it.

Then it turned out that whoever had been responsible for engraving the invitations had neglected to put the exact time, but only put 'early afternoon', which explained why Parvati had shown up at 11:30 to be on the safe side, and resulted in guests turning up at random intervals between 12:30 and 2:30. Emergency Floo-calls were made to everyone who wasn't at the Burrow by 2:45, causing a crush of Floo Traffic as people not yet at the Burrow ran to finish last-second preparations at home, forgetting to disconnect the Floo so that Charlie could call the next latecomer.

But, it finally worked out, and Roisin was safely dressed up in a silver-grey kirtle trimmed with green vine-like embroidery, when she went to meet Cedric at the gates, walking to the huge white marquee in the orchard, where Ron, Fred and George were clutching seating plans.

* * *

It was beautiful inside, with rows and rows of fragile golden chairs on either side of a long, purple carpet. The supporting poles were entwined with white and gold flowers, and there was an enormous bunch of golden balloons exactly over where Bill and Fleur would say their vows.

The younger Weasley boys were taking turns in ushering guests to their seats, and while Ron checked his seating chart, the harried-looking twins were happy to confide to some of the few people who could be trusted not to repeat any complaints to their mother. "When I get married," said a twin with a large 'F' stitched to their robes, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. Everyone can wear what they like, and I'll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

Given that Roisin was already giving serious consideration to elopement, she couldn't really blame them. The twin that was probably George sighed. "She wasn't too bad this morning, considering. Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but nothing to be done about that. Oh, blimey, brace yourselves – here they come, look."

'They' was several brightly-coloured figures who were appearing, one by one, out of nowhere at the distant boundry of the yard. There were a few last-minute Veela cousins, a few of Mr Weasley's friends from work, a Cursebreaker or two who had managed to get time off, and a gaggle of elderly and middle-aged Weasley relatives.

Luna and her father also showed up, along with Colin Creevy, apparently acting as the wedding photographers. Luna was looking very pretty in bright yellow robes accessorized with a bright yellow sunflower in her white-blonde hair, and managed to exchange a few words of greeting before floating away to help set up cameras and recording devices.

Roisin cringed as the obligatory Maiden Aunts showed up. Ron wore a pained expression as he escorted a witch who bore a startling resemblance to a bad-tempered flamingo, with a beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes and feathery pink hat. She was already criticising everything. "…and your hair is much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginerva. Merlin's beard, _what _is Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelette!"

Harry cringed and tried to hide behind Parvati as they approached, but was too late. "Ah, Harry Potter. Ronald said you were a friend of his, but I thought he was merely boasting."

Ron gave Harry an apologetic look that none-the-less conveyed a willingness to throw him to the Maiden-Aunt-Sharks if it let him get away from the one on his arm. Harry returned one of indignant sympathy as Ron made introductions. "Auntie Muriel, this is Harry Potter and his date, Parvati Patil."

Parvati's expression was much less forgiving, and suggested that Ron might wake up one morning with all of his shirt-sleeves sewn together. But, she put on a good face as she smiled and introduced herself, giving Cedric and Roisin a chance to cast a reversed Notice-Me-Not spell on the woman as Muriel continued. "I've just been instructing the bride on how best to wear my tiara. Goblin-made, you know, and been in my family for centuries. She's a good-looking girl, but still – _French._ Well, hurry up, Ronald, find me a good seat. I am a hundred and seven and I ought not to be on my feet too long!"

Roisin sighed as Ron escorted her away. "You know, I really, really hope that someone planned for a Bore's Table."

Cedric leaned back in his chair. "She reminds me of one of my own Aunts. The Weasley Twins may have a point, for once. What do you think about elopement?"

Knowing what he meant but unable to resist such a perfect opening, Roisin gave him a sly smile and a flirtatious look. Cedric turned crimson, "Um, I mean… er, when you… well, if… I really should just stop talking now, I think."

Roisin couldn't help but laugh. "I know what you meant, but you really do make it far too easy. Right now, it's a very attractive concept, but I think that marriage is still a good few years away for me. Things I want to do before settling down, you know?"

Cedric did know, and agreed, waving at Viktor Krum, who had just entered. "Hey, Viktor. Glad that Fleur's the only one in the spotlight, this time?"

The Bride's fellow Triwizard Champion sat down on Cedric's other side, nodding amiably at Hermione as she approached, hand-in-hand with Anthony. Hermione looked quite nice, in a lilac dress much like the one she wore to the Yule Ball, and matching high-heels. It was probably the first time Roisin had seen her in fancy footwear, but Anthony and Krum both seemed to appreciate it. Possibly Hermione noticed the extra attention, because she hugged him in greeting and opened the conversation with an inquiry. "Viktor! It's lovely to see you, how have you been? Are you still dating the local Seeker you wrote about? Anya, I think you said her name was?"

Anthony visibly relaxed, earning him a jab from Hermione's elbow as they sat down. Hermione had barely put down her purse before Ron, Fred and George came hurrying down the aisle. "They're on their way."

Mr and Mrs Weasley entered first, waving at relatives. Mrs Weasley was wearing new amethyst robes and a matching hat, while Mr Weasley had gone with dress robes in a safe black. They were followed by Madame Delacour, dressed in royal blue. A moment later, Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the Marquee, both wearing dress robes with large white roses in their buttonholes. There was a burst of giggling from several Veela cousins as Fred let out a wolf-whistle, drowned out as the music swelled and everyone craned their necks to see the Bride.

Monsieur Delacour was practically bouncing as he escorted his daughter down the aisle, beaming at the guests. Fleur's wedding dress was fairly simple, as wedding gowns go, intricate white lace over a simple white dress with a small train. She seemed to be emmiting a soft, silvery glow, and while her radiance usually dimmed everyone else in comparison, today it beautified everyone it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle followed behind her, dressed in gold, and when the bridal party reached the alter, Bill looked as though he had never met Greyback.

Unconciously, Roisin leaned her head against Cedric's shoulder as a small, tufty-haired wizard began to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls…"

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely." Auntie Muriel had a very carrying whisper. "But I must say, Ginerva's dress is far too low-cut… OW!"

It sounded as though someone had kicked her in the ankle. Ginny looked mortified, her dress actually quite modestly-cut, but determinedly forced it away as the ceremony continued. "Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle as your wedded wife, to love, honour and cherish, forsaking all others, as long as you both live?"

Fleur's glowing intensified as Bill promised to do so, slipping a ring onto her finger. Un-noticed by the entranced crowd, Cedric took Roisin's hand. "Do you, Fleur Isabelle, take William Arthur as your wedded husband, to love, honour and cherish, forsaking all others, as long as you both live?"

Fleur looked as though nothing would make her happier as she slid a ring onto Bill's hand, repeating his promise. Their respective mothers were quietly sobbing into lace handkerchiefs in the front row as the wizard raised his wand. "Then I declare you bonded for life."

Silver stars burst from his wand, spiralling down around the now entwined couple, and the marquee burst into applause as the golden balloons burst in a shower of golden bells and birds of paradise. "Ladies and Gentlemen! If you would please stand up!"

Auntie Muriel was grumbling audibly and glaring at the wizard next to her as she did. Roisin noticed that none of the Hogwarts couples had let go of each other's hands as they rose to their feet, feeling a soft tingle as she looked at Cedric's fingers intertwined with hers. The chairs flew to group themselves around small white-clothed tables, and the walls disappeared, leaving them standing under a canopy supported by gold poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside.

Bill and Fleur vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers, leaving the Trio, plus dates, Roisin and Cedric to find a table as far from Auntie Muriel as possible. Luna joined them, her father packing away the equipment in a corner as waiters popped up, bearing trays of food and drinks. Harry rose up a little, trying to spot if the line of well-wishers had become any shorter, and was spotted by three waiters, who instantly rushed over, to his acute embarrassment.

* * *

Roisin dreamily sipped a Butterbeer as she nibbled on a pastry triangle and a few sandwiches. The flurry of activity leading up to the ceremony meant that none of the people staying at the Burrow had eaten lunch.

The band started to play as Bill and Fleur took the floor, to great applause. They were shortly followed by Mr Weasley and Madame Delacour, and Mrs Weasley and Monsieur Delacour. Charlie and Gabrielle were not as graceful as their parents, but it was still a very nice sight.

"I like this song," Luna said, swaying to the waltz-like tune. She glided onto the dance floor a few seconds later, humming softly as she revolved on the spot, her eyes closed. Colin quickly joined her, as did Fred and George, dancing with a pair of Veela cousins. Cedric also stood, offering Roisin his hand. Roisin beamed at him and accepted, happy to be among friends.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Roisin and Cedric slipped away from the reception.

The party had slowly become… less contained… after dinner, by which time Firewhisky, champagne and Butterbeer had been flowing freely for several hours. Guests with young children had already departed, while Fred and George had long since disappeared with their Veela dance partners. Hagrid and Charlie could be seen with several other wizards near the band, singing wedding songs that were becoming bawdier by the verse.

At first it was amusing, but when Roisin was somehow mistaken for the long-dead spirit of an old wizard's former girlfriend, who had gone on to try to challenge Cedric to a duel for her hand in marriage, they decided that it was time to leave, said their farewells and headed back to the Burrow. Roisin darted upstairs to fetch her bag and they began the walk to the gate, where the anti-Apparition Wards ended. They stood silently for a moment. "I had a really nice time tonight."

Cedric smiled at her. "So did I. May I come visit you over the holidays?"

Perhaps it was the champagne, but Roisin felt slightly giddy. "I look forward to it. Until then?"

Cedric released her hand and leaned in to give her a brief kiss on the lips. "Until then. Goodnight, Roisin."

Roisin managed to restrain herself until he had disappeared with a small '_pop'_, before allowing a quiet squeal of delight to escape. She Apparated back to Privet Drive and quietly let herself in, changing for bed and drifting off with a smile on her face.

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* * *

_A/N: Yes, I'm a complete sap. Blame the fact that my cousin's fiancée just had her baby (let's call it anticipating the vows, they were already engaged when he was conceived) and half the people I know are busy getting married or engaged around me, while I'm still trying to work out if a boy I like is just being nice and tolerating my babbling when we talk._

_Sorry the chapter took so long, but I've had a few other stories to work on, and I noticed some glaring errors and cringe-worthy mistakes as I was re-reading the fic from the beginning, so I'm going over the chapters to fix those mistakes. It may take a while._

_As always, feedback is appreciated, but flames will be ignored. If you have a question, either login or leave an address, because I can't reply otherwise, and ff.n frowns on answering in A/Ns._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	105. NOT A REAL CHAPTER

First off, an apology to everyone who has been reading 'The Dursley Witch'.

Thanks to life being insanely busy with tax returns, teaching, assorted other RL commitments and attempting to make the Strata Management of my apartment block get off their backsides and fix the plumbing that has been causing people trouble for the last six months. I might be able to function with just the shower in the spare bathroom, but among other things I'd like to have guests be able to stay the night, or take a bath without semi-flooding the bathroom.

I'm sure at least some of you can understand the frustration involved in getting Management to do anything. Writing a polite Letter of Demand after six months of attempting them to do something is a lot harder than it sounds.

I mentioned that I am doing a re-write, which is why the updates are further apart than usual, rather than weekly. I'll be without computer access from Friday to Monday, but I'll do my best to update as soon as possible after that.

Right now, I've just finished Third Year, and the years after that are far more recent, and shouldn't take so long to fix up. The latest chapter of Seventh Year is about a quarter written, although I am having trouble with writing the NEWTs.

Meanwhile, feel free to do your own bit of re-reading to see how/if my editing has improved the previous chapters, or check out my other work…

.

.

…Or loudly curse my name to hell and back for making you wait so long. I'll take it as a compliment.

* * *

Thanks,

Nat


	106. The Talk - and no, not THAT Talk!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR**

There were times that Roisin wondered if her mother was a mind-reader.

Describing the Wedding over breakfast with Petunia (Dudley and Vernon having very nearly run out of the house at the first mention of decorations and dresses), Roisin had just finished describing the many morning mishaps when her mother's eyes narrowed. "Roisin, dear, will you promise me something?"

Roisin should have known better than to agree without question. "Sure, Mum. What is it?"

Her mother's eyes assured Roisin that she wouldn't be getting out that promise. "When the time comes, don't so much as consider eloping."

Damn it!

* * *

The rest of the Easter Holiday was taken up with homework, studying for the NEWTs that were coming in less than two months, and an outing to '_Fiddler on the Roof'_, which resulted in Desdemona bursting into renditions of 'Matchmaker, Matchmaker' whenever she saw Roisin and Cedric for a study group. Or when she saw Ron and Sally-Anne, or Padma, actually, but those two witches were a lot faster with silencing charms than Roisin was.

The last notable thing of the holiday was Harry visiting of his own free will, and wanting to finish a conversation that he and Petunia had started at the end of Fifth Year.

Roisin and Dudley felt absolutely no shame in trying to eavesdrop on the discussion, but Roisin hadn't been halfway through the runes for a Vision Cluster when Petunia opened the door and invited them in, saying that it was something that they needed to hear, as well.

When everyone was seated (the twins a little guiltily), Petunia made tea for everyone and took a deep breath. "I suppose this starts when Lily and I were little girls. I was not quite two years older than Lily, but we still loved each other very much. I loved her so much that I was terrified when she would swing so high, and jump off, even though I knew that she would always float to the ground. I would shout at her for it, but I wasn't angry, just scared.  
We lived in the upscale part of a small industrial town, and the part where most of the Mill workers and their families lived was called Spinner's End. Sometimes children from there would come to play in the park, but most of them spent all of their time studying in the hope of achieving a scholarship for university, or learning about the mills and factories so that they could follow their parents into the trade.  
There was one little boy, Lily's age, who would come to the park all the time, but he would lurk in the bushes, just watching us. One day, he told Lily what she was, called her special, and called me a useless Muggle. I suppose that was when it started. The Snape boy…"

Roisin and Harry choked on their tea. They knew that Snape had grown up near their mothers, but no-one had said anything about being actual friends!

Petunia gave both of them a mildly stern look for interrupting. "… he would come to the park to see Lily, but he would drop branches on my head, or trip me into a mud puddle, and claim that it was an accident. Lily would be angry and take me home for the first few months, but he played on her compassion, and on the fact that he was the one who had introduced her to the Wizarding World, and eventually I just stopped coming.  
Back then, I loved everything fantasy, and the idea that fairies and unicorns and dragons and magic was all real was like a dream come true… until I realized that it was only going to come true for Lily, but not me. I was jealous, but I tried to hide it. When Lily received her letter, I attached a note to the reply, asking if I could go to Hogwarts, too. The Headmaster sent me a letter saying that I was only a Muggle, so I couldn't go.  
Saying that I was only a Muggle brought back all the nasty things that the Snape boy had said about me, and telling myself that I hated Magic and wanted no part of it was much easier to bear than the feeling of rejection and the implication that I wasn't good enough, but Lily and that vile little bully were. I rejected Lily, and she pulled away into Snape's company, and he was all too happy to encourage the split. We started to reconcile in the summer after her Fifth-Year, when her sympathy and gratitude were finally no longer enough to excuse the way he treated everyone except her, but it was a slow process."

Roisin had a general idea of what that was like. Even now, over two years after the first attempt at reconcilliation, Roisin still wasn't at the same level of closeness that she and her family had once enjoyed. Her mother and Aunt Lily probably hadn't had numerous life-threatening occasions to speed things along, either. Petunia took a sip of tea. "Our parents died in an accident not long after Lily graduated, and the war in your world took off shortly after that. I've never been so scared as when Lily told me about the Prophecy that meant she and James were marked for death. She said that she didn't know if Snape had joined the followers of the madman leading the other side, but he had been friends with several people who had joined. Everyone knew that Lily was Muggle-Born, and she didn't know how much he might have told them about her… like whether or not Lily had siblings.  
Lily told me that the best and safest thing for me to do would be to sell our parents' house and move away, and not tell anyone where we were going, for our safety."

Roisin's father had come into the room, un-noticed, and took up the tale. "Pet and I had been married for two years, and we had just confirmed that she was pregnant with you two. All I knew of magic was that my mother was a little odd, and that the rest of the family didn't approve. Mother's side thought that she was marrying beneath her, and Father's side suspected that they were only marrying because the cart was coming before the horse. Mother was distraught when Father died, and my grandmother took advantage of her distraction to raise us how _she _thought was appropriate. When Lily and James told us that we were in danger, all I could think was that Magic was causing us trouble, again."

He sat down next to his wife, wrapping a large arm around her shoulders. "When we found you on the doorstep two years later, you had a letter pinned to your blanket. It said that Lily and James had been killed, but you would be safe from the people who had killed then as long as you stayed with those of your mother's blood. And that no, we didn't have a choice or a say in the matter, since the wards were already up. _You _would be safe, but it said nothing about the risk to us, if the people who killed your parents came looking. I had recently been made director, and we had our own two children to think of. One day, you'll find out how much it is possible to hate anyone who puts your children in danger, and what you'd be willing to do to protect the people you love."

Roisin's mother had pulled herself together, and continued. "We took you in, but you were constantly waking up, screaming from nightmares, and that was affecting Roisin and Dudley, too. You'd disappear, and we'd find you hiding in the cupboard under the stairs, refusing to come out. It was the only place you'd fall asleep, and finally we just put a low cot in there and let you be. I adored you at first, but you were the son of a witch and a wizard, and there was no chance that you wouldn't be magical, too. I knew that one day you would leave, just like Lily did, and my heart would break the same way it had when Lily left me for the Wizarding World, and never fully returned. Roisin left, and we closed ourselves off from her… and I cried myself to sleep for months."

Roisin hadn't really thought of it like that. From the day she left for the Hogwarts Express, the first letter she wrote to her family was when she asked permission to go to the O'Conner Keep, rather than to come home for Christmas. Every year after that, she returned to Privet Drive for a week or two, then went to stay with Fionna or a friend until it was time to return to Hogwarts. She had not really considered how much it must have hurt her parents, watching their daughter vanish from their lives just as Aunt Lily had.

She moved from her chair to cuddle up to her father as he took over the story. "You started showing signs of magic very young, whenever you were angry or upset, and Roisin had made her dolls waltz around her play area the day before you arrived. I knew enough from Lily to know that accidental magic happened when a witch or wizard was in a state of distress or heightened emotion, and we thought that if we could avoid any of you going into such an agitated state, maybe you wouldn't be magical at all.  
Roisin was such a placid, clever little girl, happy to watch what happened around her or sit and quietly read her books. Dudley was a bit more demanding, and I'm afraid we indulged that, hoping that if he got whatever he wanted, he wouldn't get so upset that he would start showing signs of magic, too. We punished you, Harry, because we saw you as the catalyst for all of it. The Magical child who out-shone our own, who always had something happen at nearly the same time as whenever Roisin showed signs of being a witch. It brought back memories and all of our fears, I'm afraid, and you suffered for that."

Petunia reached out and brushed a hand over Harry's unruly hair. "It is impossible to change that kind of thinking overnight, and it took until you saved Dudley for us to try. There is nothing to say that can change the past, or make up for how we treated you, but perhaps we can try to start over?"

When Roisin's mother finished, there was a long pause.

In a way, it made a very twisted sort of sense, even if it didn't excuse everything that had happened. Roisin's parents were right in that nothing could change or excuse what had happened, but there was no use in dwelling on what couldn't be changed, either. Harry seemed to be thinking hard, but finally looked up. "I need to think about this."

That was a very mature response, though hardly unexpected. Petunia nodded slowly. "We thought you would. Take all the time you need."

* * *

"Wow."

Roisin raised an eyebrow over her milkshake as she sat with Cedric at a small café near the local park, enjoying a summer afternoon as she told him about the recent talk. "That's one way of phrasing it, I suppose."

She had glossed over the more personal bits for Harry, and phrased a few things a bit more diplomatically, but she had needed to talk to someone who could look at things semi-objectively. Desdemona, her usual confidante, wouldn't have been able to keep quiet, and the rest of her friends either wouldn't understand, would not be objective, or had been friends with Harry first. Cedric was a good listener, and could be trusted not to tell everyone he knew.

Cedric shrugged, taking a sip of his own soda. "Well, I think it's one of those cases where you don't know how you would react to a situation until it happens to you in person. I can't say that my parents would be any nicer or more sympathetic, if they were forced to take in someone who endangered me with only their presence. They'd try, but they would probably start to resent them for it."

Roisin thought back to Fourth-Year, when Hermione had received an Easter egg typical of an egg-hunt, in contrast to the dragon-egg-sized ones received by Harry and Ron, when Mrs Weasley had seen the article Rita Skeeter had written the article about Hermione supposedly two-timing Harry, who she considered nearly one of her own children. If the normally-kind Weasley Matriarch acted like that on only rumoured facts, how would she have reacted toward someone who endangered the lives of her entire family, without giving her any choice.

She supposed that the Weasley family could have considered themselves in danger for associating Harry, but Mr Weasley had written several unpopular laws, and the entire family was thought of as 'Muggle-Loving Blood Traitors' well before Harry and Ron had even met, so realistically, Harry only bumped them up the list a little.

Roisin sighed. "I suppose you're right. It's just hard to hear, you know?

Cedric nodded. "Harry's probably having an even harder time than you. He spends years being badly treated, justifiably angry at your parents, and then finds out that they had an actual reason for their behaviour, justifiable or not."

He had a point, but Roisin thought that Harry had handled it quite nicely. She glanced up at the café owner, who had been pointedly wiping down tables and stacking chairs for the last five minutes. "It looks like we're about to get kicked out. Walk me home?"

Cedric dispelled the anti-eavesdropping charm and stood up as Roisin reached into her purse, being the only one of them who had brought Muggle money. "My shout, and don't argue."

They ignored the almost-glare from the owner and slowly started walking back to Privet Drive, hand in hand.

Reaching the front door, Cedric kissed her goodbye before heading off toward Primrose Terrace, where a small group of shops provided a convenient alley Apparate away. Catching a curtain swishing closed from not only her own living room, but also the kitchen window of Number Two and the Master Bedroom window of Number Six, Roisin sighed.

Only a few more days until she returned to Hogwarts, where she had to worry about NEWTs, rather than nosy neighbours.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_A/N: A lot of people are going to disagree with me about the Dursleys, and I have no problems with that, as it is just my take on things. The Dursleys are obsessed with 'normal' in Canon, but their behaviour still felt a little extreme for just not liking something, and they would have known that locking one's nephew in a cupboard is not something that Normal People do._

_As always, I welcome arguments. I also welcome suggestions for what to put in the NEWTs, as there is very little information on them in either the books or the Lexicons._

_A recent reviewer complained that I was diverging too far from Canon, and that the characters I was writing about were no longer the ones they had fallen in love with from the books, but failed to log in to let me reply personally._

_To that, I can only say that the whole point of fanfiction is to explore 'what would happen if…', and the associated changes that the characters would go through. I'm sorry if you don't like it._

_As I mentioned, I am currently going through this story to correct the far too many mistakes, mostly mine but a few thanks to uploading glitches. With one hundred and four chapters over more than five years, it is slow going, but I'm into Third-Year now, so if you want to skip back and read from the beginning, feel free.  
_

_On a side note, I really need to stop taking bets, especially ones that have me concentrating on a new story when I'm busy with several others. The most recent was an alternate epilogue, with canon pairings and non-book information, which was actually a lot harder than I thought it would be, so I'd appreciate any feedback._

_Thanks,  
_

_Nat  
_


	107. The End of Hogwarts

_Disclaimer: I really don't want to risk the story being taken down after this long, so I'll do the disclaimer properly, even if I do think it's redundant by now. I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE**

At the beginning of the school year, the Hogwarts Express had been a mix of quiet and excitement, heralding their last year at Hogwarts. Returning from the Easter Holidays, it was quiet, partly because everyone with a grain of sense was starting the Pre-NEWT study panic… but mostly because it was sinking in that this truly was their last ride on the Hogwarts express as students.

In only a few months, they would graduate, and it was mildly terrifying to think of leaving Hogwarts and getting thrown head-first into the world as adults. They had gone through Career Advice sessions, and all thought that they had their lives all planned out… only to discover that they really didn't have the first clue about what the rest of their lives would hold.

Lavender and Parvati had plans for their shop, Roisin knew that she wanted her Mastery in Ancient Runes, Hermione wanted a job where she could work on promoting Equal Rights for Minority Races, Padma intended to go into research, Seamus was going to work in the Hog's Head, and Harry, Ron and a few others were going to try for the Auror Training Program, but that was only plans in one aspect of their future lives, which might or might not come to be.

Would they still be able to keep in contact as their lives changed? Would the hard-won school unity that their year was not-quite-famous for last, or would they drift apart again? Would they succeed in their goals, or would those goals change over time? What about family? Love? Many of the Wizarding World had formed the expectation of marrying young, given the three wars of the last century (not counting the Muggle ones), and having children as soon as possible. Would their generation be expected to continue that trend, or follow the example of the few like Madam Bones, who was married to her career?

And of course, this was on top of worrying about their NEWTs, which would take place in only a month and a day. Normally, Roisin would have laughed at the 'fairy-tale-like' timing, but she was already starting to go frantic.

She hadn't missed her mother attempting to be discreet as she gave Winky detailed orders on what to do if Roisin started neglecting herself in favour of studying, as she had in her OWL year.

* * *

Much as she hated to admit it, Roisin's mother had been right to worry and take precautions via House Elf. On the bright side, someone had also given Dobby similar instructions, leading to Harry and Ron, at least, obeying in genuine fear of what the Free Elf might do in order to keep 'Harry Potter sir' safe, if they didn't look after themselves.

Hermione had to be taken to Madam Pomfrey for a calming draught when Dobby employed a similar charm to Winky's, putting a shield around her books and refusing to remove it until Hermione had eaten a proper meal and had a full night's sleep.

Amusing as it had been, it was swiftly decided that protective House Elves were the least of the Seventh-Year's worries.

Each Subject that they still took meant revision of seven years (core subjects) or five years (electives) worth of notes and textbooks. The Professors had apparently reached the limits of what would be covered in the NEWT examinations, and were just giving them homework and revision as the exams drew ever closer.

Not for the first time, Roisin was very, very grateful that she had dropped several subjects after Fifth-Year. Ancient Runes, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts were work enough, never mind Potions, Charms and History of Magic. If she had kept the rest of the original subjects, or taken Business and Household Magic as full courses, rather than Seminars, she would have been in real trouble.

Even studying as hard as they could, Roisin still felt drastically under-prepared when the NEWT week finally came around.

* * *

There existed no potion, charm, hex or enchantment that would make Morning People tolerable, and there never would, but what had started as a joke between Roisin and Hermione had evolved into a rune-cluster that kept Morning People at bay, unless they needed to impart something of Vital Importance that couldn't wait until after the second cup of coffee.

The second part had taken the longest to get right, as Desdemona and Millicent could attest.

It was a kind of specialized, reverse-empathy charm, combining the Hieroglyphics for 'joy' and 'dawn' with Merkstave _Algiz_, for turning away, and the Cuneiform Script for 'permission' and 'important'.

The NEWT examiners had also seen the counter-part Rune Spell, for identifying which Non-Morning People could be approached and which would hex you, a spell that had sprung from the same joke, and had proved vital around the exams themselves.

The Hieroglyphics for 'joy' and 'dawn', but in the negative. Merkstave _Jera_, for bad timing, and the Cuneiform Script for 'safety' and 'aggression'.

Once the examiners had stopped laughing, Roisin had been awarded an 'Outstanding', with extra credit for both usefulness and creativity.

One of the most stressful things about choosing a project to show for your NEWT examinations was that you had to be able to demonstrate an actual use for it in actual life. Roisin's project might not show up in the Prophet as one of the greatest discoveries of the 20th Century, but she could say, with almost complete surety, that it would be in great demand.

* * *

Potions was fiendishly difficult, but not quite as bad as Roisin had expected. They had to pick a potion out of a hat, and then had two hours for an essay on the history of that potion, such as who invented it, what modifications or improvements had been made over the years since its inventions, who had contributed to said modifications, and possible future experiments.

Roisin had the feeling that 'finding some way to make it taste better' would probably get her marked down, but reasoned that several potions could be improved by people not trying to spit them out due to the taste, and theorized the possibility of something to numb either the tastebuds or the gag-reflex, making the potions easier to take, as Skele-grow had everyone automatically trying to spit it back out, even if they were not actually conscious at the time.

After that, they were each given a list of ingredients, and had to choose a potion to make out of said ingredients, as well as writing up the formula.

This was harder than it sounded, as the multitude of ways that ingredients could be prepared covered a vast array of potions, only narrowed down by the not-so-common ingredients, and the fact that the Potion would need to be one that could be completed over one or possibly two days, which shortened the list quite a bit.

Roisin felt that it was slightly unfair that her Memory Potion (Jabberknoll feathers being the uncommon ingredient on her list) was confiscated after she completed her practical, but could admit that there were a number of people who might try to actually use it, and no-one wanted a student being accidentally poisoned if the potion turned out to be brewed incorrectly.

* * *

Transfiguration, Defence and Charms were not so bad, either, as they were basically tested on what they had learned over seven years. Those who had taken Household Magic and Business as Seminars could choose whether or not to take it as an exam (Roisin did take the Household Magic one), and again, the Muggle Studies Exam was available to all, even if they hadn't actually taken the course.

History of Magic was the worst. As proven in the OWL exams, Binns had taught them practically nothing over the years, and self-study only took you so far. There was a lot of educated guessing, and using five words where one would have been fine, just to flesh out an answer to the required number of words when you didn't know nearly as much about the question as you should have.

There was a section on the recent War with Voldemort, which caused a bit of trouble, because the students had actually fought in it, but several of the questions suggested that at least a few of the answers were supposed to be something nice about the Ministry. Unfortunately, student opinions leaned more toward implications that the students had been the ones to fight because the Ministry was bound up in too much red tape, and most of the adults were too afraid to stand up for themselves.

* * *

Desdemona's birthday had fallen just before the NEWTS, and she had decided that the best way to celebrate the belated birthday was to party even harder than the celebration that they were already throwing to mark the end of their final exams.

Unfortunately, the celebration to mark the end of NEWTs apparently consisted of going to the Hog's Head to get drunk in an attempt to forget the stress of the last few weeks. Roisin still wasn't sure what had possessed her to agree, but she really regretted it.

Right now, Desdemona was weaving unsteadily. "What was that quote of Dumbledore's? You know, when he was an absolute bastard in our First Year? 'It takes great courage to stand naked before our enemies, but even more to stand naked before our friends', right? Do you think he was right?"

Pansy fell over laughing, at the level of drunk where _everything _is funny. Roisin's brain was fuzzy right now, but she was willing to bet that hadn't been the quote. Anyway, it was wrong. "Not really, I know that my friends won't be judging me, and if we're comparing, at least they won't make an issue about it. My enemies wouldn't be so nice."

* * *

The Sun shone directly (and far too brightly) into the open window of the Slytherin Seventh-Year Girls Dorm, which they had forgotten to close the previous evening. The light fell directly onto the face of a sleeping brunette, who whimpered as she was forcefully returned to consciousness.

When Roisin could open her eyes without screaming in pain, she was going to kill Desdemona. And possibly whoever had told Aberforth Dumbledore to keep the drinks coming until closing time.

This was behaviour totally unbecoming of a responsible Seventh-Year, let alone a Prefect, and Roisin didn't know what had possessed her to agree to it all. On the other hand, they had been joined by most of Seventh Year, and a few of-age Sixth-Years who were showing off their new apparition licences, along with celebrating the end of their exams, so Roisin doubted that there would be too many judgements. He head felt as though it might split open when a loud _crack_ echoed through the Dorm, heralding whimpers or moans from the general direction of the other beds.

Roisin forced her eyes open, meeting the disapproving, tennis-ball eyes of a House-Elf. The young witch whimpered again at Winky's high-pitched voice as she bustled about the room, placing small potion bottles and large glasses of water on the bedside tabled. "Miss Roisin is to be taking the Hangover Potion, and drinking all of her water. Mistress needs to be awake for the Announcements in the Year Meeting."

Winky was not saying anything about last night. Roisin could _hear _Winky not saying anything about last night. Diagonally across from Roisin, Millicent forced herself upright. "What about the other Houses? Please tell me that they're suffering as much as we are right now."

Roisin gulped down the potion. "Probably. On the bright side, since we're spending the year with the Prefects as unofficial Head of House, there's no-one to yell at us this morning."

Pansy tried to smirk, though her bloodshot eyes and mussed hair spoiled the effect. "Feel sorry for the Gryffindors."

Roisin forced herself upright and headed for the shower. The Year Meeting was basically a meeting for the Seventh Years to find out whether or not they had passed their NEWTs (actual scores would come over the Summer), combined with a sort of combined final Career Advice session and a general idea of what they were expected to do over the week between Final Exams and the Leaving Feast, as they couldn't get a start on next year's syllabus or summer homework, in between lazing around near the lake.

…Or rather, what they were expected _not _to do, which would probably include exactly what they had been up to last night. Or the Prank War that had been put on hold for the past few months but would likely come up now that they all had room to breathe.

Despite herself, Roisin managed to smile.

* * *

The last two weeks of the school year passed in a flurry of laughter, enraged shrieks, and tricky spells.

The Hufflepuffs had woken up one morning to find the sleeves and neck of their robes sewn up, which turned out to be Padma taking a leaf out of her twin's book and teaching the rest of her year a basic sewing charm. Hufflepuff had retaliated with a clever charm that mimicked the 'Monster Book of Monsters', though slightly less vicious. The Ravenclaws suddenly found every book in Hogwarts sprouting legs and fleeing as soon as the Ravenclaw got within three feet of it.

Gryffindor had spent several years relying on Fred and George to be the pranksters, but they were hardly slouches, either, and thought wide. The other three Houses woke up one morning to find all of the boys clothing dyed neon pink, which no amount of dye, colouring charms, _finite incantium_ or anything else could change. The girls had endured several moments of panic when their clothes burst into very familiar bluebell flames exactly a minute after they left their Common Rooms.

They couldn't even complain too much, because aside from slight warmth, the flames had no effect other than being a bloody nuisance..

Everyone had been keeping a very close eye on the Slytherins after their prank with the Sorting Hat, and an even closer eye out for anything to do with Runes. Ironically, that was just what they wanted, as being suspicious of one particular group drew attention away from the fact that the Seventh-Years were practically folk-heroes to innocent-yet-corruptible First-Years, even if the Slytherins were the only House willing to take advantage of that. Most Prefects, expect perhaps Hufflepuff, didn't have much to do with the First-Years placed under their care, but the now-Third-Year Slytherins were close to Roisin, and somehow, no-one ever suspected quiet little Lucinda or Sienna.

They learned otherwise when Ravenclaw spent three days speaking in Shakespearian rhyming verse, specifically timed not to wear off for seventy seven hours, a powerful Arithmatic Formula which Blaise had been particularly proud of.

Gryffindor stopped laughing the day after that, when the Portraits of Gryffindor Tower were enchanted to spend ten minutes cheering for Slytherin on the hour every hour from eleven at night to four in the morning.

Hufflepuff House was on tenterhooks by then, knowing that they would be next. The Slytherins had deliberately left it until the day before the Leaving Feast, when the Badger House were nearly blinded one morning when they came down from their Dorms to find their Common Room transformed into what could only be described as 'psychedelic'. It was worse when they discovered that the furniture had been enchanted to blend seamlessly into the colour scheme.

* * *

The Leaving Feast was fantastic, as always, though it left many of the Seventh-Years feeling nostalgic. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, but it had been close, and with no End-Of-Year Heroics to give Harry, and by extension, Gryffindor, a leg-up, the House Cup had gone to Slytherin.

Granted, this was largely because they had been the best at not getting caught, or at least, making sure that there was no solid proof (The portraits cheering for Slytherin could have been a set-up… even if it wasn't) during the last-minute Prank War, but House Points were House Points.

Trunks were packed, everyone pointedly did not notice if someone lingered a bit long in the Common Room, and the Train took them back to London.

Groups of Seventh-Years stood on the platform, hugging each other, letting go only to attach themselves to another group.

Finally, when parents started poking their heads through in concern that something had happened to their children, the graduating students let go of each other and headed toward the Floo, a designated Apparition Point, or the Barrier into King's Cross.

Their time at Hogwarts was over, and it was time to start a new chapter in their lives.

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

_hp_

* * *

_A/N: A few people have complained about me always asking for constructive criticism at the end of chapters, so let me explain:_

_I have Asperger's Syndrome, a mild form of Autism, and a few of my issues are that I form impressions easily, it takes a long time for me to let go of said impressions once formed, and I take a lot of things literally or at face value. The first few Fanfiction stories I read had a lot of reviews, and were absolutely wonderful. This formed the idea that Reviews = Good Work, or at least = Good Enough To Keep Readers Interested. I am ashamed to admit that many of my stories have gone on very long holds because I was discouraged at the lack of feedback. One of those fics was this one, between Third and Fourth Years. _

_This is not meant as an excuse, merely an explanation and a minor apology for the number of times I have repeated it over the chapters._

_Anyway, this is the last chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed my longest-ever fic. I will probably do a 'Post-Hogwarts' story, since I have several half-written chapters already, so be on the lookout for that._

_You have all been awesome over the past five+ years, and I have to say thanks to all of you._

_Nat._


	108. Sequel Alert

Hi all!

I don't know if I'm supposed to put this here, but this is just to let you know that the first chapter of the sequel, _**To Build A World,**_ is now up.

Updates will not be as regular, but, as with _**The Dursley Witch**_, I will finish it.

Thanks,

Nat


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